Murder in Cerulean Blue
by Ballerina Terminator
Summary: Just as things are beginning to settle down, a murder interrupts the peace, and whether she likes it or not, Ariadne is caught up in the middle of it. A sequel to "Denial in E-Minor"
1. Chapter 1

**Murder in Cerulean Blue**

**Author's note: Hello again, my beautiful readers! I promised to return with a sequel to my last, and know I have! I know that it took me long enough, but I was married in June and then graduated from my lovely university in December after one hell of a semester. As of now, I have yet to find full time employment, so I've had the chance to really buckle down on this. (Although, full time employment would be awfully nice…) **

**If you've bothered to read the title before you started with the note, then you may have realized that my second installment of the on-going adventures of our heroes is a murder mystery. I will admit, figuring out how to put this together has been tricky as all hell, thus the full year between story one and story two, but a little under a month ago, I finally figured out how all the important pieces are going to fit and now can build a story around them! So now that you know what has taken me so long, I must warn you that it's not going to be an update every four days like my last story; I am terribly sorry about this, but as this is such a detail-oriented kind of story, I need to make sure all the parts fit together correctly before putting up each chapter. (Also, there's that whole 'looking for a job' thing that I'm also trying.) However, you should be able to look for an update every couple of weeks or so, depending on what my life does. **

**Anyway, I have worked hard to get chapter one up as my Valentine's Day present for everyone! I hope you like your present. Once again, your critiques, praises, ideas, and opinions are not only welcome, but taken with the sincerest gratitude.**  
><strong>Love and affection,<strong>  
><strong>Ballerina Terminator<strong>  
><strong>-}-<strong>

Murder in Cerulean Blue

Chapter One – Off the Hook

Marie-Claude Lacroix, the long-time roommate and closest friend of Ariadne Gray, knew something was bothering her friend as soon as she entered the living room. That evening, the two of them were going to be throwing a birthday party for their friend, Geoffrey Black. His wife, Eloise, was still recovering from a broken foot and was, at the same time, trying to manage a rambunctious baby who had just mastered the art of running. Marie-Claude and Ariadne couldn't blame her for feeling unequal to the task of hosting a party.

For once, the apartment was spotless, not an especially common occurrence. The party decorations were up and looking lovely, and the snacks and refreshment were set out in a beautiful arrangement. Guests were due to arrive at eight –in a little less than twenty minutes – and everything was ready.

Ariadne was, in Marie-Claude's opinion, looking particularly lovely in the pine-green dress that she herself had given to Ariadne for Christmas, but instead of being cheerful and excited about the upcoming party as she had been all week, she stood gazing out of the large living room window, not really seeing the view in front of her, looking tense and worried. Marie-Claude could see her tiny hand gripping the small chess bishop that she saw Ariadne fiddle with in times of stress.

"What is the matter, Ari?" she asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Ariadne tore her gaze from the street below and up at her friend who, despite being almost a full year younger, was still several inches taller.

"He hasn't called," Ariadne said simply.

Ah, so that was it, Marie-Claude thought with rising trepidation. She could see why Ariadne was concerned.

Marie-Claude had left Paris to spend Christmas with her family before Ariadne had returned from a visit to friends in London, and she had returned the morning after New Year's Day to find Ariadne saying her good-byes to Arthur Hamilton. She hadn't needed Ariadne's joyful declaration to realize that her relationship with the young man had become much deeper, and ever since Arthur had left Paris, he had called Ariadne every evening, between six and seven, without fail. Usually, the call would come much closer to six.

But now, it was coming on eight o'clock, and the cell phone on the coffee table in the center of the open room, quiet and unmoving.

"You could call him, maybe?" Marie-Claude suggested.

Ariadne looked torn. "I'm not sure," she said uncertainly. "I don't know what he might be doing, and I'm not sure that I might not be interrupting something that needs to not be interrupted. I'm not even sure what the time is where he is."

This was not a statement that gave Marie-Claude much comfort. Ariadne had told Marie-Claude that the two young men that were her friends and business associates had left to work on public relations outside of France, but it seemed that this was all her closest friend in the world was going to tell her. Where they were going and what, exactly, they were doing to work on 'public relations' was either a mystery to Ariadne, or she just wasn't telling. Marie-Claude was inclined to think the latter option the most likely.

Over the last eight or so months, Marie-Claude had sometimes felt as though Ariadne was becoming a stranger to her. Ariadne seemed to have all but lost interest in school, even though she attended one of the most prestigious architecture and art schools in the world, and she had confessed to taking up a new job that, while it paid her extravagantly and seemed to be satisfying her love of working in architecture, was shaded in mystery. Marie-Claude had no idea what Ariadne was doing with her life, and Marie-Claude didn't like it a bit.

Ariadne let out a frustrated sigh, let the heavy curtain fall in front of the floor-length window, shook off some of her tension, and looked around the room. "Well, I suppose we're ready for the party. We haven't forgotten anything?"

Marie-Claude shook her head.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, Ariadne opened the door to the first guest, Helene Lafayette. She was one of Eloise's closest friends and had been a bridesmaid at the Blacks' wedding. Ariadne hadn't met her until their engagement party, but since then, she, Marie-Claude, and Ariadne had become close. She brought with her several bottles of wine.<p>

"Whatever you have," she declared, "it won't be as good as this. You are going to love it. One is just for the two of you, so hide it." She handed over the canvas bag and shifted off her heavy coat to reveal a bright white dress that practically shone when contrasted with her obsidian skin, and she unwrapped the scarf from around her short black curls. Once her many layers of protection against the cold had been shed and deposited in the closet, she began to help with the wine bottles.

Over the next half hour, the guests trickled in, ushered in by either Marie-Claude or Ariadne. When the Blacks arrived, they had both headed for the door, but it was Ariadne that opened it. She brightened when she saw them, Eloise off her crutches and out of her cast, but still leaning on her husband's arm. However, after a quick glance around, Ariadne's face fell.

"Where's the baby?" Ariadne demanded with indignation.

"With my mother-in-law. She volunteered to babysitter," Geoffrey told her, moving to come in.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ariadne asked.

"In to my birthday party?" he suggested hopefully.

"Oh, no," Ariadne said. "If you wanted to come into the party, you should have brought Celeste."

"I can't come in for my own birthday party?" Geoffrey asked sadly.

"Ah, I think I see where the miscommunication has occurred," Ariadne said sympathetically. "You are under the impression that the two of you are my friends when actually, this couldn't be further from the truth. I only speak to the two of you because you happen to be the parents of my goddaughter. No baby, no party." She folded her arms and stood blocking the door.

"Is there a reason that we are all standing in the hallway?" asked a dark-haired young man as he emerged from the stairwell.

"Hello, Michel," Eloise said. "Ariadne is refusing to let us in because we did not bring little Celeste."

"Depriving me of my godchild," Ariadne said petulantly.

"I have to agree with Ari," said Marie-Claude, poking her head out into the hallway. "I haven't seen Celeste since before Christmas. I was not here when Eloise brought her on Wednesday.

"Well, can I come in?" Michel asked hopefully.

"Of course, you can," Ariadne said with exaggerated sweetness and a kind smile. She opened the door wide for him.

"Well, we're with him!" Eloise said quickly, jumping at the open door and tugging on Geoffrey's sleeve to get him to follow her."

"Oh, I suppose you must be allowed in then," Ariadne said with a dramatic sigh.

"Where is your pretty fiancée?" Marie-Claude asked Michel as he came in through the door. "We were hoping to see her. You did not bring her?"

"Oh, she's working this evening," he said apologetically.

Eloise took up his arm as she came in as well. "That is too bad," Eloise said, and then her tone became inquiring. "When are the two of you finally going to settle on a date for the wedding? I know that she has been trying to get you to discuss it with her."

Michel shot Geoffrey and Ariadne a panicked glance over his shoulder as Marie-Claude and Eloise led him into the living room, but they merely shrugged as though to ask what he could possibly expect them to do.

It did not take long for the party to pick up. Ariadne and Marie-Claude knew nearly all of the guests to some degree and most of these they knew very well, but the guest list had been provided to them by Geoffrey, and there were two or three whom they had only met that evening. Nevertheless, it seemed to Marie-Claude that they were getting along well and having fun. It was Ariadne who Marie-Claude saw struggling to enjoy herself, and in a room full of people who knew her so well, it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed. As it turned out, that someone was Helene.

"Ariadne, you look as though you are very worried," Helene said. The party had settled around the living room at this point, clustered into groups holding their own conversations, although the majority of the women were sitting together in the circle of chairs and sofas that sat near the fireplace.

Ariadne stopped twisting her fingers in her lap and looked up. "Sorry."

"What is the matter, Ariadne?" Eloise asked. "You have been distracted all evening."

"Ariadne is worried about her new boyfriend," Marie-Claude said sharply. It was, perhaps, not the most tactful thing that she could have said, but the entire situation was beginning to get on her nerves.

Eloise whirled around on Ariadne. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. "It was that man that came to see you in November, wasn't it? Please tell me that it's him."

"How did you know?" Ariadne asked.

"What man in November?" Helene asked. "Why do you know about this and not me?"

"Are you serious?" Collette asked. "Ariadne has a relationship that has lasted for over a month? That'll be a first. Oh, don't look at me like that. You know that I'm just teasing you."

Ariadne shot a dirty look at the slender brunette lounging on the chaise lounge. Collette was Geoffrey's first cousin on his mother's side, and as much as Ariadne would have liked to have left her off the guest list for the party, Ariadne hadn't in good conscience been able to 'accidentally' forget to mail her invitation. To say that the two women grated on each other's nerves was a severe understatement.

Truth be told, Marie-Claude really couldn't remember a time when Ariadne and Collette had ever liked each other, even when they were much younger.

Ariadne, for her part, had always found Collette to be pushy, and as they had gotten older she also found Collette to be manipulative, especially toward boys. After Collette had gotten two of Ariadne's male friends had gotten embroiled in a confrontation that had not ended well, and Ariadne felt that she had been left to untangle the mess, the low opinion had been cemented.

Marie-Claude wasn't actually certain what it was about Ariadne that got on her nerves, but she had a pretty good idea. She suspected that Ariadne, who most people found to be sweet and wholesome, struck Collette as sappy and insincere. It probably also didn't help that Ariadne could be fiercely protective of her friends, and she never bothered to disguise it when it was, in fact, Collette that she was trying to protect them from.

To tell the truth, Marie-Claude would have been the first to admit that Ariadne could sometimes come off as a bit of a goody two-shoes, although she suspected that Ariadne, also believing this, would act more sweet and innocent around Collette for the sole purpose of irritating her.

It was at this point of the conversation that Michel turned from the conversing group that he had been a part of. "Did you say that Ariadne has a boyfriend now?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Ariadne shot an unhappy glance at Marie-Claude, her displeasure at her love-life becoming a topic of conversation for a party, especially a party at which Collette was in attendance, was becoming apparent. Marie-Claude felt a slight twinge of guilt.

"_Oui_, she does, and he is very good-looking," Marie-Claude admitted.

"Could he really be all that attractive?" Collette asked of Eloise, disbelief ringing in her tone.

"Oh, yes," Eloise said with relish. "He is certainly handsome, but also so sophisticated and gentlemanly. I think he might actually be good enough for our Ari."

Marie-Claude allowed herself a smile as she left the room to answer a knock on the door to the apartment. It was nice to know that Ellie also found her cousin-by-marriage to be a narcissistic bully. She would be more than willing to get in any shots she could.

When she opened the door, she was more than a little surprised to see Arthur and a young man that she had never met before – Mr. Phillip Eames, she assumed – standing there.

"Well, speak of the devil," Marie-Claude said to Arthur, then she ground her teeth as Collette's voice came clearly into the foyer asking, "How sophisticated could he be if he's attached himself to Ariadne?" Tact had never been something that Collette understood in the least.

"Welcome," she said. "You may have come just in time to see a fight break out in my living room. Collette may be pretty tough, but if she makes Ari mad enough, I think the odds could be pretty even."

"I'd like to place twenty Euros on Ariadne, please," said Eames, following Arthur through the door. "I have a feeling that she could do some serious damage in a fight if she put her mind to it."

As they entered the living room, Ellie looked up at the newcomers, nudged Helene who sat beside her, and whispered something that Marie-Claude couldn't make out, but from Helene's reaction, it wasn't hard to guess.

Helene looked over at Arthur, gave him a look that turned from appraisal to approval. "I don't know, Collette, but he looks about as sophisticated as they come," Helene said casually.

Ariadne looked at Helene in confusion and then followed her gaze to the point just behind her where Arthur stood. Ariadne's face broke into an excited smile as she leapt up and threw her arms around his neck. He caught her mid-leap and pulled her into a tight hug that lifted her off her feet. When he set her back down, he tilted her head back and kissed her briefly, but despite its brevity, the kiss was very sweet. Afterward, the look he gave Ariadne was also very brief, so fleeting that Marie-Claude nearly missed it, but it left no doubt in her mind that he would have preferred to go on kissing Ariadne. However, Arthur struck Marie-Claude as a very private person, one who would not be inclined to public displays of affection, especially in a room in which he and Ariadne had the full attention of nearly half the occupants, a fact of which Marie-Claude was sure he was aware. In fact, the impression he gave left Marie-Claude feeling almost certain that very little escaped his attention.

"I don't expect that you could have missed me any," Eames said as though he were feeling very sorry for himself, despite the fact that he looked upon his friends' romance with obvious approval.

Ariadne turned to Eames and, going up on her toes, gave him a peck on the cheek. "I missed you, too, Eames," she reassured him.

"We meant to surprise you by showing up unannounced," Eames said, "but we didn't realize that we would be gate-crashing."

"Well, it's my birthday party," Geoffrey said. "And I say that you were invited. Ariadne, how could you have _possibly_ neglected to send invitations to my friends, Arthur and… er, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name…"

"Phillip Eames, but I prefer just 'Eames', thanks," Eames introduced himself, shaking Geoffrey's hand.

"Ah, yes, and my good friend, Eames," Geoffrey finished.

"Well, next year, your mother-in-law can give you the party, and I will take the baby," Ariadne said primly. She returned her attention to the young men that had just arrived. "Boys, there's food on the dining room table, and there's a lovely wine on the table over there, and there is a little left from the excellent bottles provided by Helene. Please help yourself."

* * *

><p>Later, after the last guest had gone, Ariadne sank down onto the couch next to Arthur, sighing with relief. "It was a good party, but I'm glad they're gone. I've been dying for a chance to talk to you and Eames."<p>

"Not, however, before I have a few words with the lot of you," Marie-Claude said firmly.

Ariadne cringed as she glanced at Marie-Claude, and Eames, also shooting a glance at Marie-Claude, leaned over to Ariadne.

"Are we about to be in trouble?" he whispered.

"We already are," she mumbled as quietly.

"You better believe you are in trouble," Marie-Claude snapped.

"Also, she has exceedingly good hearing," Ariadne sighed.

"I certainly have good enough hearing to know twice last week, you woke up from nightmares practically in a panic."

"Also, she's a really light sleeper," Ariadne grumbled, very careful not to look at Arthur.

"And," she snapped, "my eyesight is good enough to see that gash over your eye, even though you try to keep your hair covering it."

Ariadne tilted her head down, letting more of her long curls fall in front of her face.

"Really, Ariadne, I feel as though I do not know anything about you anymore. Since you started this - whatever 'this' is - you have been secretive about your work, you disappear without warning to heaven-knows-where, and you don't tell me a thing when you return except that now you have a great deal of money. All this, and I haven't said a word, but now…" she trailed off for a minute before taking a deep breath and continuing. "Now you have come home with scars and nightmares, and I'm not going to be quiet about this any longer. Ariadne says that she cannot tell me what is going on without your consent, so I am telling you now, I want to know what you have gotten her into."

During this tirade, Ariadne, Arthur, and Eames had sat quietly, and now Ariadne turned to the men and looked at them imploringly.

"If you're okay with it, then I'm willing," he said.

Ariadne turned to Eames, who did not look happy about the situation.

"Please, Eames. It's only fair that she knows what's going on. After all, you've told your mother," she argued.

"Fine," he sighed after a minute. "As long as she knows that what she learns isn't to leave this room, I'm okay with it. You still have it here right? Go grab it. We might as well give the full demonstration."

Whatever Marie-Claude might have expected, it certainly had no relation to the following events. When Ariadne jumped up from the couch, obviously pleased, and disappeared down the hall and into her room, she was confused. When Ariadne reappeared moments later with a chrome suitcase that she had never seen, she was surprised, but no less confused.

After she had set the case down on the coffee table, Arthur handed Ariadne his keys, and, selecting one from the set, she unlocked the case. The latches on the side of the case were flipped open, and when the lid was raised, the machinery and tubes within shed no light on the situation.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's called a PASIV," Ariadne said, as she fiddled with the various parts of the machinery. "I gave it a bit of a tune up this week, so it's all ready to go. I'm going need you to either sit or lie down somewhere you can relax completely." When Marie-Claude just stared, bewildered, Ariadne waved her to the open couch from which Arthur had just risen.

* * *

><p>Marie-Claude stretched out on her beach towel and opened her eyes. The cool, salty sea breeze blew through the overhead branches of the tree shading her and Ariadne, making the shadows and light dance around them. When the light flashed in her eyes she propped herself up on her elbows and gazed at the sparkling blue that began at the edge of the fine white sand and extended all the way to the horizon.<p>

"I like it here," she said to Ariadne.

Ariadne stretched and rolled over and, after adjusting the edge of her swimsuit, propped her chin on her hand.

"You really like it?" she asked, obviously pleased.

"All I need to make this perfect is a mimosa," Marie-Claude said with a grin.

She started in surprise when a champagne glass filled with orange liquid dropped into her line of vision. Her gaze ran up the arm of the hand that held the proffered mimosa up into the grinning face of Eames.

"I believe you ordered a drink," he said, handing her the glass. Marie-Claude started almost as much when she took in the loud Hawaiian shirt that he wore, but she took the drink with a gracious '_Merci_."

Arthur also came into view in a white linen shirt and khaki slacks, looking just as neat as usual, but more relaxed.

"It is a beautiful area, Ariadne," he said kneeling down next to her. "You have done a simply breathtaking job."

Marie-Claude didn't quite understand the statement, but Ariadne positively glowed with pleasure at the complement.

Eames too gazed around at his surroundings, and after a moment of critical contemplation, he nodded his head in approval. "Quite nice. Very vividly realized, Ariadne. Even the sand feels right as does the air, and I particularly like the rocky out-crops and cliffs just a little further on. They contain the area nicely. Your work is really quite impressive."

"Here now, what are you talking about?" Marie-Claude asked, pushing herself up into a full sitting position. "You are speaking as though Ariadne had designed the area herself."

"I did," Ariadne said simply.

"Don't be ridiculous," Marie-Claude scoffed. "No one designs a beach."

"Can you tell me where we are then?" Ariadne asked carefully.

Marie-Claude suddenly sat up a little straighter. After a moment of serious contemplation, she began to study the surroundings very carefully. After a moment of gazing up at the gnarly conifers that twisted out of the cliff, she hazarded a tentative response.

"Surely, we are in the south along the coast or maybe one of the little islands?" She ended the statement more as a question, and her voice had an edge hinted to her rising panic as she realized that she was uncertain as to her own location.

"Nope," Ariadne said brightly. "We are in Paris. We are still in our apartment."

"Are you trying to be philosophical?" Marie-Claude asked. "Because if you are, I am really not in the mood for it."

"No, I am not." Ariadne assured her moving a little closer to her. "You have already admitted that you don't know where we are," she continued in soft reassuring tones, "and if you think about if for a moment, you will also realize that you don't even know how we got here."

Marie-Claude gave a sharp intake of breath and grabbed Ariadne's hand and gripped it hard. The sky had begun to darken as clouds began to form, and the once calm waters became choppy and dark.

"Now, if you will take a deep breath, and remain calm, I will explain why this is. You are actually dreaming. We are dreaming together. If you think back, you will remember that you wanted to know what I did for a living. You have been worried, and I told you that I would show you. Well, now I am showing you a dream that I designed to share with others."

"None of this is real?" Marie-Claude asked obviously astounded. Out at sea, along the horizon, storm clouds had begun to congregate and lightning had started to flash.

"I'm afraid not," Ariadne said apologetically. "Despite everything, I'm afraid it is still below freezing outside." Despite the growing turmoil and the worried glances that Arthur and Eames were darting between Marie-Claude and the weather, Ariadne remained calm, and the encouraging smile that she was giving her friend never wavered. After a minute, Marie-Claude seemed to relax some as she had a chance to process the idea of her situation. She took Ariadne's advice and took some deep, calming breaths, and, after a moment, she began to feel better. When she stopped squeezing Ariadne's hand, Ariadne grinned and gave her a pat on the back.

"You're doing quite well," she told Marie-Claude. "Certainly better than me, anyway. The first time I found out that I was in a dream, I panicked so badly that our surroundings began to explode."

Marie-Claude's eyes became wide, and she began to look around her for any signs of impending destruction.

"To be fair, though," Arthur said, addressing Marie-Claude for the first time, "Ariadne's reaction was unusually strong."

"Ah," Marie-Claude said in a knowing tone. "Ariadne is rather prone to very strong emotional reactions. Oh, don't look at me like that, Ariadne. You know that it's true. You are also very good at reading the emotional states of others, and I imagine that the two factors are not unrelated. It's nothing to be bothered about."

Ariadne seemed to feel that Marie-Claude was no longer in need of calming as she stood up and brushed the sand off of her bare legs before sitting back down on her own beach towel, and, indeed, the sun had reemerged from the clouds and the sea had calmed.

"So what exactly is it that you do with these dreams that you design?" Marie-Claude asked.

"We steal secrets from people's minds," Ariadne said simply.

"What?" Marie-Claude exclaimed in surprise. "What kind of secrets have you stolen?"

"Well, when I disappeared in October, the secrets that we stole included 'Where are the other Al'Queda operatives hiding?' among other things."

"Afghanistan," Marie-Claude remembered. "And December?"

"Ah, well, in December, things didn't go quite as planned," Eames said regretfully.

"How so?" Marie-Claude asked apprehensively.

"Well, in December, the plan was to find out whether or not an employee was stealing company secrets," Eames said, "but that's not what we found out."

"What did you find out?"

"We found out that the employee was really an FBI agent investigating the company which was a front for a human-trafficking ring," Arthur said.

"And that," Eames said, "was when the shit hit the fan."

Memories suddenly began to surface for Marie-Claude: Ariadne watching news reports about an American company shut down for human-trafficking under unusual circumstances with a look on her face like grim satisfaction. She had followed the story for days, always interested, even when it was an article in a newspaper that only consisted of a few sentences. She wracked her brain for the names of the company and the people involved.

"Shaw," she said. "That was the name of the company or firm in the States. So many people were arrested. The man Shaw was found in his home tied to his bed surrounded by piles of evidence."

"There was also a bow stuck to his forehead," Eames said brightly. "I thought it would add a bit of Christmas cheer."

"And there was another man - I don't remember his name - he was found in the building all cut up and concussed," Marie-Claude remembered. "He only woke up about a week ago."

"I didn't mean to knock him senseless," Ariadne snapped defensively.

Marie-Claude looked at Ariadne in dumb-struck amazement.

"Besides, he started it," she grumbled. "And unlike him, I didn't cheat by bringing chloroform to a fist fight."

"All right then," Marie-Claude said. "I want to hear everything from the beginning, and don't leave anything out."

"Well, you know how Arthur came to see me in December," Ariadne began, but Marie-Claude interrupted.

"Oh, no," she said firmly. "Start with last June. When I said everything, I meant _everything_."

Ariadne and the men exchanged looks.

"We're going to need more than the five minutes that I put on the clock," Ariadne said.

* * *

><p>It was nearly two o'clock in the morning before Ariadne was able to find some alone time with Arthur. It had taken hours to go over everything with Marie-Claude, starting with the PASIV and the rules of shared dreams. Even with the PASIV used for demonstrations and to help show her some of the exerts that were more difficult to explain, it was a long and complicated processes.<p>

When it was done, Marie-Claude had continued with questions, until she finally ran out of things to ask. After a few moments of silence, she finally declared that she was completely exhausted and that she was going to bed.

"You haven't told me what you think," Ariadne had protested.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure what I think," Marie-Claude had admitted. "I will need sleep on it, as weird as that sounds now. Don't look so worried, Ariadne. I can say that I do feel better knowing what you have been doing than when I did not. I will think on it, and I think you will not need to be too worried. I will see you in the morning. _Bonne nuit._"

Eames had stayed to talk for a little while longer, but he too bowed out, ostensibly to acquire rooms for Arthur and himself for the night at a near by hotel.

"Were you really very worried when I didn't call this evening?" Arthur asked Ariadne as they sat curled up on the couch together.

"Exceedingly," she admitted. "I was so relieved to see you."

"I am sorry for making you worry," he said. "The original plan was to surprise you by showing up around five, well before you even expected the call; but we missed our connecting flight to Paris because of bad weather, and the next flight was later getting off the ground than expected. It was all incredibly aggravating. I ended up losing several hours that I fully expected to be able to spend with you."

Ariadne smiled, much pleased by the implied complement. "Oh, well, now you're here, and earlier than I expected!"

"I'm afraid we have a flight out again at nine in the morning," Arthur said.

"Nine?" Ariadne exclaimed her smile falling.

"We had to go thorough Paris, and we arranged to make it a longer layover so I could see you. We're going to Japan next, but we should be back by Wednesday."

"Oh, well, I suppose that's not too bad," she sighed. "And being able to see you now is quite nice."

"Yes, very nice," he agreed, pulling her in closer, and placing a kiss on her lips.

Several minutes later, their amorous activities were interrupted as Arthur's phone buzzed. Arthur sighed as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, he pulled up the text from Eames.

_If the two of you ever come up for air, you ought to know that you've got room 209. Your key is being held for you at the desk.._

Ariadne blushed, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You have to go, don't you?" she asked.

"Not quite yet," he said, pulling her back.

After a few more minutes, she tried again. "Arthur, as much as I love having you here, you are down to maybe five hours of sleep before you have to be up again, and Lord knows how long you've been awake up until now."

"You are interjecting an unreasonable amount of sense into this conversation," he complained.

"How long have you been up?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"That is unimportant," he said, ruining it by unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn.

"Eames is really not going to be pleased with me if I make you miss your flight," she said. "I'll never hear the end of if, and for that matter, neither will you."

"You're right," he sighed, standing up and picking up his coat.

"It's something you'll get used to," she said sweetly. He laughed pulled his gloves on.

"I expect I will," he said. "Do I at least get a kiss good night?"

"Of course," she said, rising up on tip-toe to put her arms around his neck.

Just a bit later, she stood at the door of the apartment, watching leave down the hallway.

"Good night, Arthur," she called softy. "See you on Wednesday."


	2. Chapter 2 Outside Looking In

**My Darling Readers,**

**I know that it is disappointing to some that this story is not being updating as regularly or as frequently as my first, but in order to balance things out, the chapters will, by in large, be longer. That being said, I would like to present to you the longest chapter that I have ever written. Ever. I have been writing furiously for entire days at a time (as I am still without full-time employment), struggling to make certain all was as it should be, and now I've ended with what could have been two chapters except there was no place to divide it!**

**On another note, today is my birthday! I am one of those people that treat their birthday as they would a national holiday (an important one that includes fireworks!), and I always wish others to enjoy it as much as I do! To that end, for my birthday I have given you all the present of two weeks of writing! If you feel the desire to get me something, I would like to point out the little button at the bottom of the page that says "Review." I always have regarded getting reviews as being very much like getting presents, and I do like the idea of waking up on my birthday morning to an inbox full of story reviews! However, whether or not you do review, I do hope you enjoy the story.**

**All my love,**

**Ballerina Terminator, birthday girl**

Chapter 2 – Outside Looking In

Ariadne and Marie-Claude awoke late the next morning. The Saturday morning was cold and overcast venturing outside was not exactly appealing to either of the girls. Unfortunately, an examination of the contents of their refrigerator did not offer up much hope for the prospect of a meal.

"We're out of eggs," Ariadne said, "and the crescents have gotten too old."

"Cereal then," Marie-Claude suggested.

"No milk."

"What happened to it? We got the milk two days ago."

"Andre finished last night at the party," Ariadne explained.

"Who drinks milk at a party?"

"Andre," Ariadne said. "He's not allowed alcohol because of a stomach ulcer."

Marie-Claude cringed. "Ah, I see," she said. "Well then, what should we do for breakfast?"

"Let's go down to the café, and after breakfast we can buy some groceries," Ariadne suggested.

"But it is so cold outside," Marie-Claude complained, "and it looks as though it will rain. Besides, on a Saturday morning, it will be quite crowded."

"Oh, don't be a baby," Ariadne said, taking her arm and steering her towards the bedrooms so that they could change out of their pajamas and into something warm. "It is only three blocks away, and it is only a bit gloomy. The alternative is for us to sit here and go hungry."

Marie-Claude, seeing no alternative, grudgingly submitted to the suggestion, although in the end she was right on all accounts.

Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to the establishment that they favored well enough that they referred to it only as "_the_ café" as though it was the only one in the city, and they were barely passed the halfway point on their route when the sleet began. Ducking their heads and pulling their coats more tightly around them, they quickened their pace more and more as the precipitation became heavier. By the time they reached the café, they nearly sprinted through the door.

The warm, brightly-lit café was even more populated than Marie-Claude had supposed, filled not only with customers, but also with those who were trying to escape the weather, however, most were huddled over near the fireplace, leaving most of the tables nearer the large front window open. Ariadne and Marie-Claude shed their coats, gloves, and scarves at one of the open tables and joined the masses huddling around the ancient fireplace to warm themselves before braving the line at the counter. They spent several minutes spent coxing feeling back into numb fingers and toes before the smells of coffee, chocolate, and baked goods tempted them away from the crackling fire, and they joined the line of people eyeing the treats in the long glass bake-case while waiting to make their order.

Once they returned to the small table they had claimed earlier with newly acquired drinks and sweet pastries in hand, they relaxed and took their first sips of the warming liquid. After a few moments of contented silence, Ariadne couldn't stand it any longer.

"So, are you going to tell me what you think?" she asked anxiously.

Marie-Claude was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She took another sip of her hot cocoa before she answered.

"Well," she replied, hesitating a moment before continuing. "It is certainly not what I expected."

Ariadne's eyebrows knit together. "What were you expecting?"

"I do not know," Marie-Claude confessed, "but whatever it was, it was not… that."

"And you aren't sure if you approve?" Ariadne asked, warming her hands on her piping cup of cappuccino.

"Truly, Ariadne, we both know that you do not need my approval, but if that is what is bothering you, then I can tell you that I don't mind nearly as much as I thought I would," Marie-Claude said with more than a hint of exasperation. "I do appreciate that you all are taking some pains to find some moral high-ground and to stay on the right side of the law whenever possible. That gives me a great deal of comfort. However, I will not stop being worried about you when you enthusiastically throw yourself into dangerous situations."

Ariadne did have the grace to look somewhat contrite.

"However," Marie-Claude continued, "I have to admit that a little part of me was not surprised."

"What do you mean?" Ariadne asked suspiciously.

"Oh, _mon ami_, of all the people that I know, you would be the one to find yourself unwittingly caught up in wild adventures!"

"I am not sure if that is a compliment," Ariadne said carefully, "but I think I shall take it as such."

"Oh, please do," Marie-Claude said with a laugh. "You always keep me entertained!"

While the girls had been talking, the weather outside had become increasingly harsh. They could see through the window the wind pick up and precipitation increase. Occasionally, the door would open to admit some damp and frozen pedestrian an escape from the elements, letting in a gust of icy wind into the café, causing the patrons to shiver. Each time, Ariadne and Marie-Claude would cringe at the burst of cold air.

"I am not going back outside until it has either stopped coming down outside or the café is closed," Marie-Claude declared after another entrance. "They have my favorite soup today, and if you do not want to stay, I am perfectly happy to take my book out and read."

"No, I don't want to go back out in that any more than you," Ariadne said. "I just wish that the door would stop opening!"

Seemingly in complete contradiction to this last statement, Ariadne exclaimed brightly when she saw the next person to duck into the café, and Marie-Claude turned in her chair to see who Ariadne had spotted. He was hunched over his leather briefcase, trying to protect it from the elements, and when he straightened, she could see that it was Geoffrey.

Ariadne waved to him, and when he caught sight of her and Marie-Claude, he seemed to cheer up considerably and made his way over to their table.

"_Bonjour_, ladies, how are you doing on this fine morning," he asked them, in an accent that was an exaggeration of the Irish brogue he had picked up from his father.

"You did not seem to think it was so fine when you came in," Marie-Claude teased.

"Ah, my little granny in Ireland would call this a mere drizzle," he said dismissively, taking off his coat.

"Well, then your grandmother should be the one walking down the street, and you should have stayed inside," said Marie-Claude. "You look as though you nearly drowned!"

"All to have the pleasure of your company," he insisted, "and with such lovely faces before me, things are looking less gloomy."

"Are you going to continue to stand there and be silly, or are you going to sit and join us?" Ariadne asked.

"I shall join you if I am not interrupting," he replied, setting down his briefcase and draping his dripping coat over a free chair. "I shall return as soon as I have procured warm drink."

When he did return, he pulled up a chair not taken by drying outerwear, and took a careful sip of his hot drink.

"So what are you doing out on a day like this?" Ariadne asked.

"Going to the office," he said. "I am all alone for the next few days. Ellie is taking her mother back home, and she's taken the Celeste down to spend a few days with Ellie's grandparents."

"You couldn't go too?"

"No, work has claimed me, and the girls won't be back until Friday," he said gloomily.

Ariadne gave him an understanding smile. "Well, why don't you come over and eat with us for at least a couple of nights this week," she offered. "After all, there's no point in eating all alone, is there?"

"_Certainement_," Marie-Claude agreed. "We would be glad to have you."

"That is very thoughtful," he said, obviously warming to the idea. "However, I do have an office party for the legal department on Tuesday. One of my co-workers is getting a promotion, and there will be a bit of a celebration. You two could come with me if you'd like; I do hate going alone to these things. I must admit, they usually aren't terribly interesting, but the food is always delicious."

Ariadne and Marie-Claude glanced at each other to see what the other thought about this plan.

"Please," Geoffrey implored them, "I really don't want to go alone."

Through very slight shrugs and nods, each girl managed to indicate to the other that she was not opposed to the idea, and they agreed to go.

Geoffrey looked pleased. "Good, we'll have fun. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to get going as soon as the weather looks like it is going to ease up. I suppose that it is too much to hope that I might find an open cab. I already have plans for tonight, but I'd be glad to come over for dinner on Sunday."

"Wonderful," Marie-Claude said. "We'll make something good!"

It was another half-hour before Geoffrey was able to make his escape, but when he left, the girls also left, travelling with him as far as their paths coincided.

Geoffrey did join them for dinner the following evening, and, upon invitation, also joined them for Monday, when he offered to pick them up the next evening.

"So, who's getting promoted?" Ariadne asked when Geoffrey stopped by the apartment a little before eight to pick up the girls on Tuesday evening. Ariadne and Marie-Claude had dressed up for the occasion. Ariadne, again in the dress that Marie-Claude had given her for Christmas, was fiddling with the clasp of her grandmother's pearl necklace, while Marie-Claude finished buckling the strap on her left shoe.

"Charlotte Picard," Geoffrey replied as he passed Ariadne her coat. "She was my boss up until now. She deserves it, of course, but I'm not sure about her replacement."

"Oh?" Marie-Claude asked as she shrugged on her own coat.

"Charlotte has always been really nice and works really hard to make things work smoothly. Marc is okay, but he's sort of stand-offish." Girls ready, they walked out the front door.

"What do you mean by 'stand-offish,' Geoffrey?" Ariadne asked, as she locked the door behind him.

"No apparent personality to speak of," he said unhappily.

"Oh, dear," Ariadne said sympathetically.

"And where is the party we are going to?" Marie-Claude asked.

"The party tonight is being held at the apartment of Monsieur Renard, the head of the legal department."

Geoffrey drove them to the apartment where the party was being held. The building itself was beautiful, with white stone and black wrought-iron detailing, and inside, the rooms were spacious and well decorated. They entered from the hallway into a living room area where they were greeted by Madame Renard, a tall woman with grey curls pinned up in an old-fashioned style.

"Oh, Geoffrey, how good it is to see you again. Is your lovely wife not joining us this evening?"

"No, Madame, I am afraid not. Ellie has gone to visit her parents for a few days with the little one," Geoffrey replied. "However, I would like to introduce our good friends, Mlle. Ariadne Gray and Mlle. Marie-Claude Dubois. They have been thoughtful enough to ensure that I did not have to eat my own cooking while Ellie was away."

"Mlle. Grey, Mlle. Dubois, we are very glad to have you," Mme. Renard said warmly, taking each of their hands in turn. "So you know your way around, in here we have the living room, and just in here to the right we have the library. We have the drinks in there." A glance to the right showed a pair of French doors had been opened up to make the living room and library into one large area for the party to take place.

"The door just ahead," continued Mme. Renard, "goes into the dining room where we have some food laid out, and you can get to the kitchen by going through the door to your right as you enter the dining room or through the door on your left as you enter the library. The restroom is down this hallway here" – she gestured to their left – "first door on the right. If you need anything, please feel free to help yourselves, and if there's anything I can do for you

Geoffrey and the girls thanked her and moved on as more guests entered, and Mme. Renard gave them another friendly smile before turning to the new arrivals.

The small group wandered toward into the library, where Geoffrey introduced Ariadne and Marie Claude to M. Renard, a heavy-set man in his late fifties or early sixties with salt and pepper hair, who was just as polite and welcoming as his wife, if somewhat more formal. He offered them drinks, and, when Marie-Claude accepted, he moved promptly to the bar and poured her a generous glass of wine.

After Marie-Claude had thanked M. Renard for the drink, Geoffrey again steered the girls away for yet another introduction, this time, with the guest of honor.

Charlotte Picard was about forty with petite frame, a pointed nose, bright eyes with laugh lines at the corners, and light-red hair that was cut short, giving her the over-all appearance that put one in mind of a pixie or sprite. She was speaking to a tall young woman with dark hair carefully pulled back, sharp eyes of dark blue, and a carefully-tailored dress that showed modern taste and attention to detail, much the opposite of the fay-like Charlotte.

The taller woman excused herself as Geoffrey and the girls approached, leaving them free to speak to Charlotte Picard alone. Charlotte was as amiable as Geoffrey had claimed, and she was free with her praise of him, which, to Ariadne's surprise, made him blush. They were only able to speak to her for a few minutes, before another guest claimed her attention, and they took the opportunity to head into the dining room to lay claim to some of the treats laid out on the dining room table.

The table took up most of the dining room, with seating for ten, however, this evening a buffet of fresh fruits and vegetables, a variety of meats and cheeses, and a basket of breads filled most of the table. One fourth of the table was devoted to tarts, chocolates, and other desserts. They each took a plate from the side-board, and helped themselves, taking their full plates back into the living room where they claimed seats and joined the general conversation while they ate.

After they had both cleaned their plates, Geoffrey, pointing out a chess board set on a small table next to the wall opposite the library, asked Marie-Claude if she would be interested in playing a game.

With a mischievous smile, Marie-Claude replied, "I would be happy to play a game with you if you do not mind being embarrassed in front of your co-workers."

"I don't mind, and who knows," he said, offering her a hand up, "I may win this time."

Marie-Claude didn't respond to this. She just smiled and took his hand, and, when he had helped her to her feet, they moved around the room to take a seat at the small stools that stood on either side of the round marble table that held the chess set.

Ariadne, uninterested in watching the chess game, also stood and headed to the library for a glass of wine. Unfortunately, before she was able to procure her drink, she caught sight of the latest arrival, and panic gripped her. He was not a tall man, maybe five foot eight, with short, wiry black hair and pale blue eyes, and a pale, round face, and he was the last person in the world Ariadne wanted to see. At the moment, he was also the last person in the world that she wanted to be seen by. She slipped behind another guest who was standing between her and the man who had just entered the apartment, giving her a minute to plan her escape.

Of all the people that should show up at this party, she thought in frustration, why, oh, why did it have to be _him_?

She glanced around her human barrier to make sure he was facing away from her before she made her move. Ariadne tried to duck through the swing door that led to the kitchen from the library, but knocked into someone just on the other side of the door. She began to apologize, but her good manners were forgotten when she looked up and was surprised to see a young man that she recognized.

"I know you!" she exclaimed. "You came to the birthday party for Geoffrey as Robert's date, didn't you? Wait, no, that's not quite right. You came together, but you had your own invitation. It's Etienne, isn't it? You work with Geoffrey."

The young man, a broad-shouldered young man with dark, glossy curls and creamy-coffee skin, smiled broadly. "Full marks! Geoffrey introduced me to Robert a couple of weeks ago, and I asked him to go with me."

"Good date, was it?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, I think it went well. Robert is a really nice guy, and you put on an excellent party."

"Oh, I'm glad you liked it," she said quickly, glancing behind her as the door swung shut. "Hey, do me a favor, and I'll put in a really good word for you with Robert," she said hopefully.

Etienne's eyebrows rose, but the look of good humor didn't leave his face. "What can I do for you?" he asked as though he were going to start laughing.

"Well, there's this guy that I'm trying to avoid," she said.

"Ah, say no more, _chérie_," he said with an expressive wink. "You need someone to run interference."

"If it becomes necessary," she said plaintively.

"Your gentleman caller isn't here to fend off advances?"

Ariadne blinked in confusion before she remembered Arthur's unplanned entrance into her own party. "Oh, no, I'm afraid Arthur's not in a position to help me with this one. He's been in Kyoto for a few days visiting a business associate."

"That is a bit out of the way," Etienne agreed. "Well, can I ask who it is that we are avoiding?"

"Durant Tessier," she admitted. "We dated for a few months a few years back."

A look of distaste flickered across Etienne's face. "Oh, well, I see why we are hiding. What a shame you don't have your new paramour with you. What better hindrance is there to an old beau than a new one?"

"Especially when the new one is so much better looking," Ariadne agreed, unable to suppress a satisfied smile, "and so much nicer."

"Worth showing off, yes?"

Ariadne just grinned wider.

"So, I guess it is safe to assume that it did not end well?"

Ariadne rolled her eyes and pushed the door out ever-so slightly and peered out into the library. "Unless he has changed greatly since I went out with him, I imagine that relationships never do end well with him. Oh, Lord, who is that poor girl he has with him? His latest victim?"

"What does she look like?" he asked, trying to get a look through the crack.

"Caramel-colored hair, not much taller than me… I can't see her face, no wait, now I can see."

"Big, sad eyes and a pointy nose?" he asked.

"Heavens, yes."

"That 'poor girl' would be the current girlfriend. I believe her name is Astrid. I think they've been together for nearly a year now, but I'm not sure. I only joined the company last February, and he's technically part of the accounting department, so I haven't worked with him personally all that often, but I get the impression that he has a very sensitive ego."

"Very perceptive of you," Ariadne said, letting the door swing shut, and turning back to Etienne. "What is he doing here anyway? I thought this was a party for someone in the legal department."

"He's been working with legal for a while now, an internal thing. I'm not surprised he's here."

"I may never speak to Geoffrey again for getting me into this."

Etienne gave a sympathetic smile and gestured for her to join him in taking a seat.

"This is a good place to hide," he assured her. "People don't come into the kitchen very often."

The kitchen was divided into a cooking area and a sitting area by a bar that ran diagonally through the center of the room. On the far side of the diagonal there was the cooking range, the sink, and a fridge, but most of the counter space was provided by the island in the middle. A set of French doors supposedly opened out onto a balcony, but curtains over the windows in the door blocked the outside view. On the near side, there were bar stools along the edge of the bar and a breakfast table filled with some bottles of wine, mixers, liquors, and other assorted drink ingredients.

"You look stressed. Can I make you a drink?"

"Well, I was going to get a glass of wine before I had to make a quick escape."

"White or red?" he asked as he walked over to the table.

"Red," she answered after a moment's thought.

"And do you prefer something sweet or dry?" he inquired while he perused the selection of wine.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Surprise me."

As he selected a Merlot from the group, the kitchen door opened again, and two heads whipped around to see the newcomer.

"Vivian!" Etienne cried jovially. "Won't you join us for a glass of wine?"

"Certainly, I will. Let me take a couple of bottles out to the party, and I'll be right back."

"Wonderful," he said cheerfully. "Bring us some wine glasses when you return, or we will be drinking out of whatever cups I can find in the cabinet."

Vivian took two of the bottles, and returned a moment later with three wine glasses.

"So, what are we doing tucked away in here?" she asked conspiratorially.

"Hiding from Durant Tessier. Mlle. Gray and he have some unfortunate history together, and she would prefer to avoid him," he said gesturing toward Ariadne. "Vivian, this is Ariadne Gray. She is here as the guest of Geoffrey. Ariadne, this is Vivian da Silva, M. Renard's personal assistant. She is the person who keeps everything running smoothly."

Vivian turned to Ariadne with a surprised look.

"Oh! That would mean that you were…" Vivian cut off with a flush of embarrassment.

"I was what?" Ariadne asked with apprehension.

"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I don't want to bring it up if it is a sensitive subject."

"It really isn't," Ariadne assured her. "I don't mind"

"And now I am curious!" Etienne exclaimed. "So go on!"

"Well, know of you because of the 'other woman' involved," Vivian confessed in an apologetic voice.

"Is that so?" Etienne asked, his voice filled with anticipation. "Who was it?"

"You know, you are the worst gossip," Vivian scolded him.

"I know, chérie" he said dismissively, handing her a glass of wine.

"No, really, go on," Ariadne insisted, taking her own glass from Etienne. "I knew that there was someone else, but I never found out who it was. That was why I ended it in the end. I mean, it wasn't the only reason, but it was the straw that broke the camel's back, if you could imagine a straw with the weight of a boulder."

Vivian hesitated for a minute before she began

"It was one of our interns in the legal department. She wasn't an unkind person or uncaring, but she was kind of dim, if you know what I mean. Isabella is the kind of person who will ask everyone for advice and still manages to make the worst possible choices. She'd insist that he had promised to break it off with his girlfriend and that he was only waiting for the right time, and no one could tell her different. He really had her wrapped around her little finger."

"She must have been thrilled when I broke it off with him," Ariadne surmised.

"Oh, she was, to begin with," Vivian said regretfully. "But then she found out what he was really like. He was really awful to her and blamed her for ruining his relationship with you. She ended up leaving the company."

"What an upstanding guy," Etienne said sarcastically.

"Typical," Ariadne muttered acidly. "As far as he's concerned, nothing is ever his fault. It's because of his massive inferiority complex which, ironically, is coupled with the idea that world somehow owes him everything he wants."

"So Isabella knew about being the 'other woman' and didn't mind?" Etienne asked.

"She didn't think about it like that," Vivian explained. "The way she saw it, the way he explained it to her, was that a man with a horrible, unfeeling girlfriend had fallen in love with her, and she was going to make him happy the way the mean girlfriend couldn't. Sorry, I'm not saying you're like that, of course" – this she insisted to Ariadne – "but that was the fairy tale that had been cooked up for her."

"No, I understand," Ariadne assured her. "I just feel bad that she had to take the fallout when I showed him the door."

"I'm really beginning to feel sorry for Mlle. Astrid," Etienne said, and Ariadne nodded her emphatic agreement.

Vivian started to say something, but she stopped at the sound of shouts coming from the living room. They all exchanged quick glances before jumping up from their seats and heading over to the door. Etienne pushed it open just enough to see through into the living room where the shouts had already begun to die down. Ariadne crouched down to peer through the door without obstructing the view for Etienne and Vivian.

"- not fair, and it is not true!" a middle-aged man was insisting to M. Renard. The man was red-faced and somewhat disheveled, and Ariadne did not think she had seen him amongst the guests earlier in the party.

M. Renard had rushed over to the man and had started speaking to him in low calming tones, and he was shortly joined in his efforts to pacify the obviously distraught man by another, younger man bringing a glass and proffering it to the shouter. Together, they led him into the dining room, and for a minute or two, everyone in the living room and library were silent before hushed murmurs began to fill the room.

Etienne let the door fall shut again and helped Ariadne back up from her kneeling position.

"I hope that was water in the glass that Jean-Louis was giving him," Etienne said. "I think the poor man has already imbibed enough this evening."

"What on earth was that all about?" Ariadne asked.

"That was Henri Noel, and I believe that he was suspended yesterday under suspicion of embezzlement," Etienne said.

"You aren't supposed to know that," Vivian said reproachfully. "It was supposed to be kept private."

Etienne shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. He moved to the door that led into the dining room, and putting his finger to his lips to indicate that he wanted silence, he put his hand to the door and added just a little pressure. The door between the kitchen and dining room was also a swing door, and the little pressure that he added opened it almost imperceptibly. However, the voices coming from the room next to them suddenly became more distinct, and Ariadne could hear fragments of the conversation.

"-something wrong with the findings," one voice, the Henri Noel, was saying.

"If there was a mistake, then we will find the error," M. Renard insisted. "Until then, you are suspended, but if you have done nothing wrong, then you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not sure that it was just a mistake!" Henri said adamantly. "I think that-"

A voice Ariadne didn't recognize, one she assumed was the man that Etienne called Jean-Louis cut him off. "Do not worry, we will go over all of Tessier's findings again. I am sure that we will be able to find if there has been some kind of oversight!"

"I want to be allowed to see them!" Henri Noel insisted.

"Of course you will be allowed to go over the audit yourself," M. Renard reassured him. "You don't have to worry about that! Come, M. Noel, why don't you relax, and enjoy the party. I can assure that no final decision will be made without- "

The end of the statement was cut off from Ariadne's hearing when Etienne slowly removed his hand from the door, letting it fall closed.

Vivian was looking peeved. "I don't like eavesdropping in on other people's conversations," she said irritably. "I certainly hope you don't do that kind of thing at the office!"

"It's difficult not to hear when people insist on having their conversations while speaking as loud as possible," Etienne said innocently. "I'm not putting a glass up to walls and placing my ear on it, if that's what you're asking."

Vivian didn't exactly look pleased, but she did relax a bit.

"What does Durant have to do with this?" Ariadne asked.

"You remember when I said he was working with the legal department on an internal matter?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Well, apparently, someone has been dipping into company funds, and he and Jean-Louis Morel have been working on finding out who is responsible."

"And they think that M. Noel was involved?" Ariadne asked.

"I suppose so," Etienne said.

Further conversation was put to an end when the door from the library opened, and Mme. Renard stuck her head in.

"Oh, there you are, Vivian. I am sorry to interrupt your chat, but René is looking for you. I believe he is about to make a quick speech about Charlotte's promotion."

"I'll be there right away," Vivian assured her with a smile.

"_Merci_," Mme. Renard said. "He's in the living room." She disappeared back around the door, and Vivian stood up.

"I've got to go," she said, standing up. "Please, let's not talk about this anymore, and please don't tell anyone else about it. You're not supposed to know about it, and I really don't want it to get out.

"Don't worry," Etienne said candidly. "None of this leaves the kitchen."

"Good," Vivian said, sounding genuinely relieved.

After Vivian disappeared out into the party, Etienne stood and stretched.

"I suppose as this is Charlotte's party, good manners would dictate that we listen to the speech being made in her honor."

"Yes, it does," Ariadne agreed, standing up. "In fact, I believe it will probably start soon, as things have suddenly gotten very quiet out there."

Etienne and Ariadne stepped out into the library and were a little surprised at the number of people. It had not seemed so crowded when she had first gone into the kitchen, but now people had to shuffle around to make room for them.

She looked through into the library where M. Renard was standing on a small stool and entreating Charlotte to stand and be recognized which she did with a slight blush and an amused smile. Then M. Renard began to speak about her dedication and the hard work she had done for the company.

Ariadne stopped listening to the speech after a minute and began to glance around for Marie-Claude and Geoffrey. She quickly found them still sitting at the chess table, turned to watch the speaker. She tried to see how the game was going, but gave up at trying to discern the pieces at that distance.

She was surprised when Etienne hooked her arm around his and leaned in to whisper to her.

"Don't look now, but you've been spotted."

Ariadne had the presence of mind to keep her eyes focused on M. Renard as he continued to speak.

"Have I?"

"Yes," Etienne murmured under his breath, "and it looks like he's trying to stare you down. In fact, he looks a bit silly."

Ariadne suppressed a giggle. "Well, he can keep on staring, and I shall continue to pretend that he isn't there."

When the speech was over, the crowd began to break up, and Etienne glanced around to look for Durant Tessier.

"I've lost sight of him," he said. "It has gotten awfully crowded in here." Etienne checked his watch and sighed.

"What's up?" Ariadne asked.

"It's getting a bit late for me," he admitted.

Ariadne picked her phone off the counter and checked the time before glancing back at him with amusement.

"Nine-thirty is late for you?"

"Well, not usually, but Robert asked me if I wanted to go for a run with him tomorrow morning," he explained.

"Oh, second date?" she teased.

"Sort of," he said with a grin. "Normally, I don't car for early morning runs, but we're going to get breakfast after the run."

"And you were going to get to bed early tonight," she finished for him.

"It's fine. I can stick around if you'd like," he insisted. "I can make sure Tessier doesn't bother you.

"That is very chivalrous of you, but it will be all right. It's hard enough to move in this press of people much less see people, so he may not find me again. I will keep my head down, and I can deal with him if I need to. It will be good for me to not be such a coward."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "It is very nice of you to worry, but I want you to have a good time tomorrow. Give Robert my love when you see him."

"If you're sure," he said. "We must hang out again soon."

Etienne said his farewells to his hosts and a couple of friends, and after giving Ariadne a ritual cheek-to-cheek peck and a wish for good luck, he headed out.

Ariadne wandered through the crowd into the living room, toying with a cocktail napkin and glanced at the clock, willing it to go faster. It didn't seem to have an effect. The sooner the evening came to a close, the happier she would be. Now that Etienne had left for the evening, for Ariadne all interest for the party had withered and died. She was relieved to been able to find a chance to duck out of Durant's range, but she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to avoid him. This, by itself, would not be so bad if she could just be allowed to ignore him, but for some reason unfathomable to Ariadne, Durant always behaved as if they were on speaking terms.

She glanced over to the table where Marie-Claude and Geoffrey were playing and was not terribly surprised to find that they had attracted a group of watchers. Marie-Claude was an exceedingly good player. In her head, all of the patterns and gambits laid themselves out simply and clearly, and her opponents fell before her in droves. Ariadne had enjoyed playing chess with her grandmother who loved the game very much, but it had been some time since playing against Marie-Claude had lost all charm. Geoffrey, however, never one to be deterred, continued to play her at every opportunity, and was thoroughly thrashed for his trouble. Without even taking the trouble to look at their progress, she knew how the game would end. Ariadne watched the players for a while a few paces back from the table, not really taking in the game. She slid her hand into her tiny pocket that she had sewn into the seam of her dress and let her fingers brush the totem resting there. The little brass bishop had come from her grandmothers set, and, as always, she found its presence a comfort.

Suddenly, Ariadne tensed, aware that someone was standing at her shoulder, and she didn't even need to turn around to know that it was Durant. The smell of cologne too heavily applied warned her of his presence before he even spoke, but even then, it was too late.

"_Bonsoir_, Ariadne. You are looking very lovely as always."

Ariadne closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath, aggravated that she had let herself become distracting. Repressing her irritation with some effort and, not even turning to look at the man standing just behind her she said to very simple words.

"Go away."

"And how have you been?" he continued, as though she had greeted him warmly.

"Obviously better that you have been doing as you seem to have lost the ability to understand simple statements such as 'I never want to speak to you again' or the even simpler 'Go away!' Did someone finally hit you over the head with a tire iron?" she said hopefully.

"Surely you don't really expect me to believe that you don't miss me even just a little bit?" he asked with the kind of self-assurance that made Ariadne believe that he truly couldn't comprehend the idea that she was doing anything but suffering from the lack of him.

"_Monsieur_, I couldn't care less about what you would like to believe, but what I expect for you to do is leave me alone as I have requested." Ariadne proceeded to move away, but Durant stepped in front of her, forcing her to face him for the first time in the conversation.

"Still as uptight as always," he said derisively.

Ariadne glared at him. "Only if you think the expectation of fidelity and respect is 'uptight,'" she snapped at him.

"Not so loud," he hissed. "You're making a scene."

Ariadne glanced around. Two or three people were gazing in their direction, but most were ignoring them.

"Oh, a '_scene._' Well, good gracious, we couldn't have that. You're absolutely right. You'd probably best be on your way, and I must be on mine."

Once again, Ariadne made to move away, but Durant grabbed her wrist and gripped hard, keeping her at that spot.

"I don't think you understand what a mistake you've made," he growled. "Do you really think you could do better-"

He had intended on continuing, but Ariadne interrupted.

"You are the one here who has failed to understand the situation," Ariadne said in a quiet, controlled voice, as she started to pry his fingers from her arm. "I already have found someone else, someone _so_ much better than you that the difference is breathtaking. However, even if I had not found someone else, I would still be happier alone than I would if I spent any more time with you, so let go of me, and _get lost_."

She punctuated the end of her statement by giving his fingers a final twist in a very unnatural direction, and she smiled in satisfaction when she heard Durant give a grunt of pain. While he was still caught off guard by the movement, she did an abrupt about-face, and ducked through the nearby door into the dining room.

In the unpopulated dining room, the hors d'oeuvres and pastries that had been spread out on the dining room table had been greatly picked over, leaving little left to interest anyone. Instead of going through the door immediately to the right which led into the kitchen, she moved straight to the opposite side of the room where a pair of French doors opened out onto a balcony. She reached around the edge of a curtain, opened one of the doors, slipped outside, and pulled it shut behind her, as quickly and quietly as possible.

She turned and peered through the very small gap in the curtain. Just a moment later, she saw Durant open the door to the dining room and glance around, a look on his face that Ariadne would have described as 'petulant.' She stepped back from her view through the curtains, turned around, and her breath caught. Ariadne had been living in Paris for several years and was used to her vistas, but even she had to admit that this view was something special. She could see the Eiffel Tower, all lit up in a golden glow, looking much closer than she had expected, and closer still was the Seine, reflecting the orbs of light that came from the street lamps that lined the bridge that crossed the river. So beautiful was it that it wasn't until a sharp, icy wind blew through the fabric of her inadequate clothing that she realized that it was also quite cold, and she realized that the wonderfully warm and heavy coat that she had worn to the party was still in the coat closet on the other side of the apartment, and with Durant between her and the closet, that is where it would stay. She shivered and began to rub her hands together to create some warmth before shoving her hands into her pockets as deeply as they would go.

Ariadne began to look around to take in her more immediate surroundings. The balcony was surrounded with old-fashioned wrought-iron railing with ornate curls at each corner of the platform. The balcony was narrow, only stretching about four or five feet out from the dining room doors, but it was much longer than she had expected, running far enough along the side of the building that the French doors in the kitchen also led out onto the same space.

Despite the cold, she stayed outside, sitting down facing the railing and sliding her legs between the bars so that her legs could dangle off the ledge and so she could lean forward, supported by the rails as she took in the view.

She wasn't sure how long she had been outside, but it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes when her phone began to vibrate insistently. She pulled it from her pocket and felt absolutely blissful when she saw Arthur's picture and number lighting up the screen.

"Good evening," she said cheerfully as she answered the phone. "Am I glad to get a call from you!"

"Good morning," Arthur replied in bleary tones that were punctuated with a yawn. "It is nice to be so appreciated. Is everything okay?"

"Better, now that I'm talking to you," she assured him. "You sound quite tired. What time is it for you now?"

"Oh, about a quarter to six in the morning," he said. "I haven't quite gotten my coffee yet."

Ariadne replied with affectionate sympathy. "Why are you up so early?" she asked.

"Plane leaves in a little more than an hour, and we are on our way to the airport."

"Poor darling," she teased. "At least you will be able to sleep on the plane, right?"

"I'm sure. It will be a very long flight. So, how is your evening going?"

Ariadne groaned. "I wish I had gone with you," she said regretfully. "At least I wouldn't be stuck out on this balcony in the cold if I had." Once again, the biting wind had risen up, and she covered her right ear, the one not occupied by a phone call, with her free hand, in order to shield it.

"What balcony?" he asked confused, "and why are you stuck?"

"The balcony is attached to an apartment where a party is being held, and I am currently stuck because at the moment I am trying to avoid someone who is both exceedingly unpleasant and unwilling to leave me alone."

"What party is it?"

"Marie-Claude and I agreed to go with Geoffrey being given in honor of one of his co-workers because Eloise is out of town, and he didn't want to go alone, the big baby."

"And where are Marie-Claude and Geoffrey now?"

"Not only have they abandoned me, but they abandoned me for a game of chess."

"Well, at least that won't last too long."

"You only think that because you have never seen Geoffrey make an effort at beating Marie-Claude in a game of chess. He could plan his strategy out for a month, and she would still win."

She went on to describe the mechanics of a Geoffrey/Marie-Claude chess game, how every time it was Geoffrey's turn, he would study the board laboriously, his fingers resting on piece after piece as he considered the possibilities of each play. After a while, he would finally pick up a piece, move it to a new square, and, after an excruciatingly long pause, he would remove his hand from the piece he had just played. Then, Marie-Claude's hand would dart out, and she would be done with her chosen move before Geoffrey had even put his hand down. Then, the entire process would begin again.

"Really," he laughed, it can't be that bad."

"But it is!" she insisted. "And that's not the worst of it. Sometimes, Marie-Claude will get up and get something to drink or make herself something to eat, just to mess with him! Once, it got on his nerves so badly that he stole one of her pieces right off the board. When she came back, instead of complaining or even mentioning it, she just went ahead and beat him without the piece. The look of dejection on his face would have been heartbreaking if it hadn't been so funny!"

Ariadne enjoyed the sound of Arthur laughing as she talked to him, and she wished she could stay on the phone for the rest of the evening rather than rejoin the party, but it was only a few minutes later when Arthur confessed that they had arrived at the airport in Tokyo, and it was time for them to hang up.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, you will," Arthur promised. "I should be there in time for lunch, assuming no flight delays."

"Good. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," he said.

"Tell Eames that I said to stop snickering," she said. "I can hear him."

After a second, she heard a scuffle and an indignant cry from Eames.

"All taken care of," Arthur declared.

"What did you do?" she cried in a mixture of laughter and alarm.

"Oh, he's fine, I just jabbed him in the arm. Unfortunately, he'll survive."

Ariadne giggled despite herself. "Have a good flight, Arthur. I love you."

"I love you, too. I'll see you in a few hours."

When the call ended, Ariadne was still enjoying the warm feeling that had risen up when he told her he loved her, for a few minutes she completely forgot about the cold, but it was not to be ignored for long. Ariadne sat out on the balcony for a few more minutes, rubbing her arms with her hands, trying to avoid returning to the party. She tried to distract herself from the cold by looking over the view from the balcony. It really was quite breathtaking, and she waited for a couple of minutes when the lights of the Eiffel Tower began to flash making the whole structure glitter. Ariadne had seen the hourly light show many times before, but she watched it anyway, stubbornly trying to delay going back inside. However, by the time the light show ended, she had begun to shiver violently, and her teeth were chattering so hard her jaw had begun to ache.

Giving up, she stood and turned back to open the door back into the dining room. She grabbed the latch, twisted, and pulled, but neither the knob nor the door budged even slightly. Her brows knit in confusion, and she tried again to open the door, but nothing gave. She tried to peek into the dining room through the curtains, but she couldn't see anyone in the room. After rattling the knob for a few more seconds, she gave up and glanced around to the balcony when she caught sight of the other pair of doors that led into the kitchen.

Feeling a little dim, she headed over to the other pair of doors, and she was filled with a growing dread that she was about to be a known as the woman at the party who got herself locked outside and had to get someone's attention to let her back in and, with her luck, Durant Tessier would be there to see it. Suddenly, hypothermia seemed more appealing.

Ariadne felt a wave of relief when the right knob turned easily, and she pushed open the door, enjoying the warmth as she stepped inside. She pushed the door closed behind her and turned to move around the island when she suddenly felt her feet catch under her, and she threw her hands out in front of her to catch herself. Instead of hitting the hard tile as she expected, fell onto something at once soft and angular which jabbed in her stomach, knocking the wind from her and she felt her hands slip on an unexpected dampness that seemed to cover the floor. She gasped and coughed, trying to catch her breath and push her hair out of her face before clumsily trying to push herself up off of whatever she had landed on. It was more difficult to do so than she expected, but she had finally managed to hoist herself up.

She looked down and was confused when she discovered that she had landed on a pair of feet sticking up in a pair of mahogany loafers, surrounded by a pool of crimson. She let her gaze run up the legs attached to the feet to see the rest of the man, slumped against the side of the island with an expression of shock frozen on his pale face and the worn wooden handle of a large kitchen knife sticking out of his belly.

Ariadne, finding herself covered in blood, scrambled to push herself as far away from the body of Durant Tessier as she could before she hit the cabinets behind her, and she began to scream.


	3. Chapter 3 Off Topic

**Dear Darling Readers,**

**Happy Independence Day to all of my American readers, and happy fourth day of July to everybody else! I apologize for the unprecedented length of time between my chapters. I fully intend that the next chapter be up more promptly, and again, I wish to reassure all that I will not abandon you mid-story. It may be slow going, but I promise that I am going somewhere with this tale, and I want to give you rich, complex chapters that make you feel like you've really seen progression of the plot, sub-plots, and/or character development. Part of the reason that I am taking this long is that I am not writing this entire thing in order. I have spoken to authors of murder mysteries who sit down and write their entire stories in order. All I can say to that is this - don't hold your breath. Another reason that things are not progressing as quickly as I would like (and I imagine, as quickly as you would like) is that I keep getting attacked by plot points and scenes from Inception story number three and, more recently, Avengers stories. What can I say? Inspiration comes when it comes, and for me, it has no sense of linear progression. (Also, you are absolutely going to LOVE the last chapter of my third Inception story.)**

**Also, I've had a lot of work lately, and, no lie, that takes out a lot of the free time to write, but on the other hand, so would being homeless...**

**So, once again, I am going to ask from you, my beloved reader, for feedback. It could be as involved as a play-by-play of your thoughts and feelings as you read through the chapter (which, no lie, would make my LIFE), or as simple as mentioning a couple of spots that your really enjoyed (or absolutely hated, as the case may be).**

**On a completely personal and unrelated note, I am employed! (HALLELUJAH!) In a real, full-time job with benefits and stuff! There's even going to be a business trip! It's as though I were a real grown-up!**

**As always, you have all of my love!**  
><strong>Ballerina Terminator<strong>

**P.S. I have posted one Avengers short story and have two more very soon to be posted. If you haven't seen the Avengers movie, stop reading now and go see it. It is made of joy and happiness. (Although, you should see Thor, Capt. America, and both Iron Man movies first. That makes for the best Avengers movie experience.) Seriously though, I was taken aback by the awesomeness. It has joined Inception in my top 5 favorite movies. Go now. I'll be here when you get back. This story will keep. Back now? Excellent! Wasn't it wonderful?**

**P.P.S. My new job gives me a great deal of insight into criminality and the American justice system, and while that is actually going to help me with this story in a lot of new ways, what I really need is a better understanding of the French justice system, so if anyone who knows about it could give me an overview and answer a few questions especially pertaining to the law enforcement side of things, I would really appreciate it. I wish to avoid glaring mistakes due to my ignorance.**

**Edit: Sorry about the re-upload. There were a couple of sentences with stray words in them, and I figured that I'd fix it right off.  
><strong>

Chapter 3 - Off Topic

Eames and Arthur stood outside Ariadne and Marie-Claude's apartment, considering the possible usefulness of knocking on their door for a third time and Arthur was debating internally the practicability of trying Ariadne's cell for a fifth time when Marie-Claude threw open the door. She stood there, a shawl thrown around her shoulders, with her honey-brown tresses in disarray and her soft sage eyes red and sleepy.

She glared out at Eames and Arthur who stood in the entrance with impatient looks on their faces.

"There had better be a very good reason for you to get me out of bed at this unholy hour," she snapped.

They regarded her in shock and confusion for a moment before they consulted their watches.

"It is one-thirty, isn't it?" Eames asked. "We just got in an hour ago, but I'm sure I got the time right."

Marie-Claude just sighed irritably and swung the door open wide gesturing for them to come in. "Ariadne is still asleep, I think. The woman could sleep through the bombing of Paris, so she would not hear the knocking." She led the way to the bedroom that belonged to Ariadne, and after knocking and poking her head into the room and seeing Ariadne huddled under a mass of blankets on the bed, she opened the door the rest of the way and walked in. She leaned over Ariadne and shook her shoulder.

"Ari, wake up."

A slight groan came from the Architect, but nothing more, so Marie-Claude tried again, shaking harder this time.

"Ariadne you have to wake up!"

Ariadne just pulled the blankets more tightly around her. "Go 'way. 'S cold," came the slurred response from within the covers. When Marie-Claude continued to stand over her stubbornly, she just burrowed deeper in the blankets. "I'm tired, and I am not losing any more sleep over that awful man!"

Arthur and Eames gave Marie questioning looks to which Marie-Claude responded with her own exhausted gaze.

"I do not wish to speak of it," she said wearily. "You are on your own."

Eames leaned in toward Arthur. "I believe that this is something that I will leave to you," Eames said with a sly smile. "I'm going to see if I can find the coffee. I hope it wasn't anything that _you_ did."

Vaguely worried but unable to identify anything that he could have done in the course of the last 14 hours that could have incurred Ariadne's wrath, Arthur decided to go for broke. He walked around the bed, sat down next to her, leaned over, and planted a firm kiss directly on her mouth.

Ariadne's eyes popped open from the shock.

Arthur was momentarily stunned when he was tackled in the most forceful hug that he had ever received. Feeling considerably more pleased than he had up until this point as his only contact with the woman since he had left Tokyo had been hearing a recording of her voice when her phone had sent him straight to voicemail. However, his joy began to subside when her grip on him continued just as strong and her face remained buried in his shoulder. He waited for a moment for her to say something, but when no words were forthcoming, he pulled her carefully but firmly away from him and looked her up and down warily.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, but with an undertone that made it clear that he was intent on the information.

Ariadne sighed, flopped back onto the bed, brown curls flying everywhere, and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms.

"I was going to try to meet you at the airport, and I didn't even hear my alarm go off!"

"Actually," Arthur said, picking up her cell phone from her night stand to inspect it more closely, I believe that your phone needs charging."

Ariadne made a noise that was something between a groan and a whine. "God, what a night; you just aren't going to believe it."

"Does it have something to do with this 'awful man' that you are not losing any more sleep over?" he asked, relaxing as she yawned and stretched.

"Durant Tessier," she said peevishly. "What an absolute nightmare."

"That bad?"

"So, so much worse," she insisted.

"It can't have been that bad," he teased. "What could have happened since I spoke to you last?"

"Well," Ariadne replied with a hint of irritation at his flippancy, "as soon as I hung up and went back inside, I did manage to trip over the dead body of my ex-boyfriend."

"The dead body of your ex-boyfriend?" he asked in a deadpan voice.

"Yes, like I said, I damn well tripped over it," she said with a scowl. "Someone decided that the world would be a better place if he had a knife in his chest, a sentiment in which I cannot find fault, and then they left him in front of the door that led from the kitchen out onto the balcony where I was speaking to you."

"You were out there when he was killed?" Arthur asked with a mix of horror and incredulity.

"Had to be," she said simply. "The reason I was out there in the first place was to avoid him!"

"That's the person that you were trying to avoid last night?" he asked as his memory threw up a red flag. "The one who was 'exceedingly unpleasant'?"

"One in the same."

"Who killed him?" Arthur asked, still trying to wrap his mind around this new information.

Ariadne shook her head. "God only knows, and He isn't telling me. Someone at the party is all we know. When his current girlfriend went to pieces she was nice enough to make it clear that she felt that I was somehow not an innocent bystander. So, you can imagine how well that went over," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"No arrests were made?" Arthur asked, who was, if anything, certainly quick on the uptake.

"Not a one. After it was determined that the investigation was going nowhere, they took our information, told us not to leave the city, and let us go home," Ariadne said in tones of finality. "Anyway, that's more than enough about my evening. Tell me, how was Japan? Did you get to see Saito?"

"Japan was quite cold, and Saito sends his regards," Arthur said, obviously not distracted. "Ari, I really need to know more about what happened."

"Arthur," Ariadne said firmly. "Yesterday, I had an awful day, and I don't want to think about it any longer, much less discuss it. We were up until nearly five in the morning talking to the investigator in charge, and I'm sick of it."

"I don't like this," Arthur said, ignoring her last statement. "I don't like this at all. Come on, Eames is making coffee. I want to discuss the situation with him."

"But its cold," she complained, still wrapped up in her heavy blankets.

"Bring the blankets, and I'll build up the fire for you in the fireplace. Come on," he said, all business. "I'll have it going by the time you get dressed."

"Can I at least get another kiss first?" she asked hopefully.

Arthur smiled, and, sliding his arms around her, pulled her close for what turned out to be more than just one kiss, but after a minute, he pulled away firmly. "Now come. We really do need to talk about his," he said, once again serious, although he was still smiling when he said it.

When Arthur left he closed the door behind him and moved into the living room where he could hear Eames speaking to Marie-Claude in the kitchen. He took of his jacket and draped it over the back of the couch before rolling up his sleeves and setting to work on building up a fire.

He was just about finished when Eames and Marie-Claude came out into the living room to join him.

"Ariadne should be joining us in a minute," Arthur said, standing up and brushing his hands together to shake of bits of wood and ash. He accepted the proffered cup of coffee from a grim-faced Eames. "Although, if she doesn't join us soon," Arthur said, glancing toward her room, "I may get you to go check on her and make sure she actually got out of bed."

"She does not move very quickly in the mornings," Marie-Claude reassured him. "I'm sure she will not be too much longer."

"Marie-Claude has been catching me up on last night's events," Eames said. "This may be a problem."

"I know," Arthur said unhappily. "Tell me, you were there, how bad do things look for her."

Marie-Claude glanced toward the bedrooms before leaning in and speaking low. "Do not repeat this to Ariadne or I will have you killed, but when she screamed and I ran into the kitchen and saw her there on the floor with blood all over her and the dead body of Tessier with a knife in him, I thought that he had attacked her and she had killed him. Do not misunderstand; I never thought that it was anything but self-defense, but until she said otherwise, that's how I saw things. Mind you, I am not entirely out of trouble either. Several people went in and out of the kitchen in the twenty or thirty minutes before he was found dead by Ariadne, and I was one of them. Still, the last time anyone admits to having seen him was when he followed Ariadne into the dining room."

After a moment's pause, she reluctantly added, "After they had argued."

Both Arthur and Eames winced, understanding fully the gravity of the situation. The conversation was interrupted when Ariadne, dressed for comfort and hair not brushed but tied back, came into the living room and curled up in the chair closest to the fire. Eames gave her a peck on the top of her head and placed a cup of coffee on her hands.

"Drink up," he told her. "We need that clever brain of yours to be running on all cylinders."

"I don't see why. I was on the phone with Arthur when it happened, and I've told the police everything that I did, very candidly," Ariadne insisted. "I'd prefer not to worry about it."

"You'll really have to worry about it if you get arrested for it," Eames said with unusual lack of tact. "And that will thoroughly undo all of our hard work making sure you are seen as the victim of the Shaw debacle."

For just a second, Ariadne appeared obviously shaken, but the expression was fleeting

"Are you saying that because I tripped over a dead body that I will become infamous the world over as violent and untrustworthy," Ariadne said defensively. Arthur knelt down next to her.

"You might if you get blamed for it," Arthur said, not pleased with the direction this conversation was going. "And that will be less important than having to mount a defense for a murder trial. If there is a way to keep that from happening we need to find it because, as the person who found the body, you are going to be the only suspect until they have a chance to find out if anyone else had a motive and the opportunity to kill him."

"That should be pretty simple," she replied bitterly, "knowing him."

"And it would be even simpler if we can figure out who might have killed him ourselves."

"Look, I don't care who killed him," Ariadne said, once again defensive. "As far as I am concerned, this is not my problem!"

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Ariadne absolutely jumped at the opportunity. She pulled open the door to Eloise who was holding a child of barely toddler size, who was easily identifiable as her daughter, Celeste.

"Ellie!" Ariadne cried. "I thought you weren't going to be back until tomorrow!"

"I came home as soon as I heard!" Eloise said breathlessly, while the baby in her arms was reaching out for her godmother. "As soon as I got the whole story from Geoffrey, I came to see how you were doing."

The insistent infant cries of "Adie, Adie!" were not to be ignored, and Ariadne took up her godchild and gave her a kiss.

"Hey, sweet baby," Ariadne said. "Am I glad to see you!" Having momentarily satisfied the want of attention from Celeste, Ariadne turned back to the child's mother. "I'm fine, Ellie, really," Ariadne reassured her. "I am pleased you brought the baby over. Come on in. I think that there is still fresh coffee."

Having realized that she had lost her godmother's focus, Celeste began to pull on Ariadne's sleeve and repeated her pleas for attention with more cries of "Adie, Adie!"

Ariadne dutifully returned her attention to the little girl. "_Oui, mon ami_," Ariadne said affectionately, extracting her sleeve from the grip of the toddler. "What do you want?"

A string of syllables followed, incomprehensible to all but those experienced with the pronunciations of children learning to speak, and despite not understanding the words, it was clear to Arthur that Celeste had just made a request.

"You are hungry, and you want something to eat?" Ariadne asked, requesting confirmation.

The child nodded emphatically, and Ariadne looked up at Celeste's mother.

"Is she really hungry, or is this a ploy for something sugary?" Ariadne asked suspiciously.

"We had lunch a couple of hours ago, but she did not eat very much, so I would not be surprised if she has finally decided to eat."

"Well, then," Ariadne said brightly, once again addressing Celeste, "Adie is hungry too, so let's go see what we can find in the kitchen!"

Disappearing into the kitchen with Celeste in tow, Ariadne had clearly and successfully removed herself from the discussion.

Eloise joined the others in front of the fire where she greeted them with a smile. "So," she said, "Ariadne seems to be taking this surprisingly well." After she glanced around at all of the grim faces, she continued carefully, "Perhaps a little too well?"

"You could say that," Marie-Claude said mildly.

"You didn't have to scare her," Arthur snapped at Eames.

"Oh, yes, I did," Eames said simply. "I know you'd rather she was happy, and that's understandable. However, in this situation, she ought to be scared. It is better for her in the long run to be scared and dealing with the situation instead of trying to pretend that everything is all sunshine and rainbows."

"So, things are not so good," Eloise said. In response, Marie-Claude just rolled her eyes and gave her head the slightest of shakes.

"This fellow that died," Eames began.

"Durant Tessier," Marie-Claude supplied.

"Right," he continued. "What exactly is his history with our beloved Miss Gray?"

"I see why Ariadne isn't talking about it," Ellie declared. "It is not exactly something she'd be proud of."

"What a creep he turned out to be," Marie-Claude agreed. "Had I known he was there, we should never have gone."

"Well, it is obvious that things ended badly, but how did they begin?" Eames asked. "What convinced a clever girl like Ariadne to go out with such a jerk?"

"Because," Marie-Claude said as though it were painfully apparent, "he didn't start out behaving like such a jerk. When she met him, he was charming and friendly. Surely, you do not believe when they met and he said "I want to make you feel worthless, do you want to date me?' and she said 'Take me, I'm yours!' Of course not! He told her she was pretty and sounded like he meant it. He was attentive and was interested in everything that she did. He bought her flowers, and he would give her a ride to school, so she did not have to walk."

Eloise explained. "He made her feel like he really cared about her."

"How did they meet?" Arthur asked, pulling his notebook from his back pocket.

"Through Geoffrey," Eloise admitted. "They worked in the same company. They still did until last night." She gave him a penetrating look. "Are you taking notes on this?"

Arthur looked up surprised. "Yes," he said uncertainly. "If we're going to figure out who killed him, we need to know as much as we can about him."

"Researching for a job is one of his strong points," Eames interjected. "Although apparently tact is not." Arthur shot him a look that was both irritated and defensive.

"I thought that you were in public relations," Ellie said.

"Only for other people," Eames said brightly.

"Anyway," Arthur said pointedly, before the subject of their own occupations could continue, "What was his position in the company?"

"Some sort of accountant," she said.

"So, it didn't start out bad. When did things change?" Eames asked.

"Oh, maybe a month or so after they had started dating," Marie-Claude said thoughtfully, "I remember he started to be very" - she paused to consider - "critical of her, any time she did something or said something that he didn't like."

"For example?" Eames asked.

Marie-Claude considered. "He didn't like it when she didn't answer her phone when he called or call him back quickly enough."

"Remember when she overslept and was fifteen minutes late meeting him for dinner?" Ellie asked.

"I remember she came home without having dinner," Marie-Claude said. "She told me that when he had started to get on her case for being late, she told him that she was too tired to listen to him snap at her for an honest mistake, and she left." The note of pride in her voice was matched only by the amusement. "He came over the next day with presents and profuse apologies."

"Then there was the time Geoffrey and I went out with them," Eloise said. "He would glower if she so much as smiled at the doorman."

"That was nothing to the time when Jean-Luc gave her that pink scarf for her birthday," Marie-Claude continued, really warming to her subject. "You would have thought that he had given her lingerie, the way Durant reacted."

"Then there were the little things that he would say to her," Ellie said. "That was worse."

"Like what?"

"Many times he would point out something wrong with how she looked. The dress that she was wearing was too worn or her hair was out of place. I heard him tell her once that she laughed too loud. When he started doing that, he would say it as though he was just trying to be helpful, but it happened more and more, and after a while she was always worried about what was wrong with her. He would make her feel terrible, and then he had the nerve to tell her how lucky she was to have him. The horrible thing was that she was starting to believe it. This went on for three or four months."

"Probably a good thing he's already dead," Arthur murmured to himself, not looking up from his notes.

"Out of curiosity, how did he take criticism?" Eames asked. Arthur glanced over at him, eyebrows raised, but he didn't say anything. He could tell that Eames had an idea and he was looking for evidence to support it.

The women also seemed to sense that there was a purpose to this line of questioning because they too exchanged a significant look.

"It is funny that you should mention it," Marie-Claude said. "He was very touchy when it came to any kind of opposition. At one point, I told him that I thought she looked lovely when he made one of those horrible little comments, and he was very defensive."

"How did it end?" Eames asked. "The relationship, I mean."

The women exchanged shocked glances.

"You mean, you don't know?" Marie-Claude asked.

"Well, it was obvious that she was just about fed up by this point, but the nail in the coffin was when she found out about the other woman."

"Other woman?" Arthur exclaimed.

"It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head," Marie-Claude said. "It was _incroyable_. She pawned the jewelry that he had given her. She slammed the door in his face after she told him that he was horrible and that she never wanted to see him again."

"How did he take it?" Eames asked dubiously.

"Not well," Marie-Claude said emphatically. "He begged and pleaded to be forgiven. He yelled and blamed her for being cold. In the end, she threatened to call the police if he did not leave."

"And how did Ariadne take it?" Arthur asked.

"Not how I expected," Marie-Claude said thoughtfully. "I was afraid it hurt her or that she would be embarrassed, but I don't think it fazed her at all. I waited for her to break down in tears or wonder if she had done something wrong, but it never happened. I think there was some part of her that knew how bad things were, and she just looking for an excuse to end it."

"Ariadne had much more trouble before," Ellie said. "She had not done much time dating. I think she must have suspected that Tessier was not good to her, but she was not sure that she was not to blame. When she found out about the other woman, it simply became clear to her that Tessier had always been more concerned with himself than her. After that, he was no longer her problem."

"She wasn't upset at all?" Eames asked suspiciously.

"I did not say that she was not upset," Marie-Claude said. "I just said that she was not sad."

"She was angry," Eames surmised.

"Livid," Marie-Claude confirmed. "She was angry at him for treating her so badly, and she was angry at herself for letting him. She still is, and she is probably more angry now that he has gotten himself killed and left her with the mess."

"Probably rather embarrassed as well, I should think," Ellie guessed, "now that she can hardly hope to avoid discussing her former beau with her current beau."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. Like many other people in a new relationship, he was growing increasingly aware of the difference between knowing a person well and knowing about all of the previous experiences that had gone into making them that person. Although, unlike most people who had the opportunity to discover these things naturally as they spent time together, he had found himself necessarily extracting these events, and their resulting effects, from those closest to the woman he cared for so deeply. It made him feel disloyal. He covered for this by steering the thread firmly away from Ariadne.

"What can you tell me about him since that time?" he asked. "What friends did he have, past or recent? Who among his fellow employees, if any, does he spend time with at work?"

Marie-Claude shrugged and shook her head.

"Honestly, I think Geoffrey would be better able help you with those questions," Ellie admitted. "He does, or did, still work with him, although they were in different departments."

Arthur leaned back in his seat and looked at Eames. "What do you are you thinking?"

"Probably a Borderline Personality," Eames said. "From what they say, he would fit the profile. It's even possible that he had some sociopathic leanings, but that's hard to say without more background."

"Would it be helpful to know, you think?"

Eames shrugged. "Depends," he admitted. "Can't hurt. If he was then he probably left a lot of crappy relationships in his wake, and not just romantic ones either. He might have come across as charming and thoughtful to start out with, but that façade couldn't last forever, and usually not for very long. I mean, Ariadne took less than half a year to slam a door in his face, right?"

Marie-Claude nodded.

"Well, there were scads of business associates at that party that are worth taking a closer looking at," Eames said. "Speaking of which, you said that you had gone into the kitchen after the last time Tessier was seen, but you didn't see the body?" This last was directed at Marie-Claude.

She shook her head. "He was behind a counter in a place that could not be seen from either of the doors that led into the kitchen from the other rooms. He could have been dead when I was there, but I don't know for certain."

"What about Geoffrey," he continued. "Do you know if he could have gone into the kitchen during the time in question? "

"Not a chance. Several people were watching us play chess at the time, and he never rose from his seat."

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about him," Arthur said. "Just you and Ariadne."

"Me?" she asked surprised.

"You didn't think we'd help Ariadne and leave you to fend for yourself, did you?" Arthur said with mild indignation.

"We are, of course, working under the assumption that you didn't kill him," Eames said with a bemused smile.

"Oh, _merci_," she replied with a hint of sarcasm, "but how can you be so sure that it wasn't me?"

"Well, to be honest, we can't be absolutely certain," Eames admitted, "but as much time as you spent fretting about what kind of trouble Ari could be getting into while working with us, it seems unlikely that you would promptly turn around and let her take the rap for you."

"Giving me credit for not being soulless, are you? How kind." There was a slightly acidic edge to her voice that Arthur picked up for the warning that it was. He interrupted before Eames could continue to amuse himself by irritating her further. Eames tended to become more childish when he was worried and didn't want to show it, and now, under the added stress of inaction, he was threatening to become positively infantile.

"Eames, you still have some friends within the Paris law enforcement, right?"

"There are a couple of guys that shouldn't mind having me drop in on them," he said, brightening, "even if Sgt. Da Silva does still owe me a drink."

"Maybe you should call him and see if he would be willing to pay up," Arthur suggested, "if not today, then tomorrow."

"We still need Ariadne on board," Eames said. "Sooner rather than later."

"You know, she probably needs a little more time," Marie-Claude suggested. "I think that if you give her a chance to get over the initial shock, she'll probably come around on her own."

"Normally, I'd agree with you," Eames said, "but in this instance, I'm worried about letting her go too long before talking over last night's events. She could start to remember things wrong, or worse, start to block things out altogether."

"Do you think that's likely?" Marie-Claude asked.

Eames shrugged. "It happens," he said as he stood and began to head for the door to the kitchen. Arthur quickly stood to follow.

Just passed the kitchen was a small office that had a television sitting on a shelf in a corner. Ariadne sat on the floor with the baby, several pillows gathered around, and a full tray of food sitting next to them. Both Ariadne and Celeste sat watching Winnie-the-Pooh - in English, Arthur noticed – while taking bites of food from the plates on the tray. Even after Eames and Arthur came into the room, both pairs of eyes remained fixed upon their movie.

"Hey, Ari," Eames started. "We need to talk."

"This had better be good," Ariadne said darkly, eyes not leaving the screen, "because you are interrupting Winnie-the-Pooh."

"It is important."

"More important than Pooh?"

"Ariadne, we have got to talk to you about this guy Tessier and what happened last night," Eames said not unkindly, but firmly.

Ariadne shot him a heated glare, tearing her gaze from the movie for the first time. "Let's be clear. There will never be a good enough reason to interrupt Winnie-the-Pooh if that reason includes _him_," she said, the last word dripping with acid.

"Now if you want to watch too, you are welcome to take a seat on the couch and join us, but you still have to be quiet."

At the word, 'quiet', Celeste looked up at the adults around her, put her finger to her lips, and said, "Shh!" She was obviously proud of having mastered this particular learning concept, judging by the look of satisfaction that came when Ariadne gave her a pat on the back.

"Yes, _mon ami_, that's right." Ariadne said encouragingly before turning back to the television as though no interruption had taken place.

Arthur caught Eames's eye and gave an emphatic nod toward the door. Eames didn't look happy about it, but he followed Arthur back into the living room.

"How did it go?" Ellie asked, looking up from the text message that she was typing out.

"Your daughter kicked us out," said Eames, apparently uncertain about how that conversation had gotten away from him so quickly.

Ellie tried and failed to suppress a look of amusement and incredulity. "I have received a message from Geoffrey. He has gotten a call from an inspector associated with the murder case asking him to come in this afternoon for an interview."

"Really? That could be illuminating," Arthur said with interest.

"I have told him that I will go with him," Ellie said, snapping her phone shut.

"I will go with you if you don't mind," Eames said. "I can see when one or two of my friends are going to be on shift."

"I would appreciate the company," Ellie said. Then, turning to Marie-Claude, she asked, "Do you think it would be okay to leave Celeste with Ariadne for three or four hours?"

"Oh, certainly," Marie-Claude assured her. "Ari will be pleased. You should also join us for dinner about seven. That way we will get a chance to hear about Geoffrey's interview with the police inspector.

"Good idea," Arthur said approvingly. "I can use the time until dinner to see what can find on my own." He pulled his laptop from his bag and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. "The internet should be able to tell me something new."

"Wonderful," Marie-Claude said with a sigh. "While you are each off being more productive, I am going to try to get some more sleep."

Arthur took a seat on the couch after the others had departed and began the collection of information, starting with the news stories relating to the murder of Durant Tessier on the night before. By the time Marie-Claude emerged again from her bedroom nearly two hours later, now showered, dressed, and considerably more alert than when he had first seen her that afternoon, Arthur had already downloaded several stories for future perusal that included not only stories pertaining to the previous night's events, but also stories that pertained to the company as a whole, up to three years earlier. He had moved on to sifting through Tessier's social networking profiles when Marie-Claude had breezed through and declared that she was going to do the shopping for dinner.

It was some fifteen minutes later, after Arthur had become thoroughly sick of looking at the Facebook page of a man he was quickly learning to detest and he had moved onto trying to hack into Tessier's work e-mail, when Ariadne came out into the living room carrying a sleeping toddler. She curled up on the couch next to him with Celeste in her lap, looking positively downcast.

He sat the laptop down and wrapped his arms around her.

"Arthur, I don't want to have anything to do with this murder," she said quietly.

"I know," he said sympathetically, kissing the top of her head.

After a couple of moments of silence, Ariadne spoke again. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice heavy with resignation.

"I need you to show me what happened," he answered simply.

* * *

><p><strong>P.P.P.S. I don't own Inception or, sadly, Winnie-the-Pooh. They belong to Christopher Nolan and Christopher Robin, respectively. (And Disney might come into it somewhere. *wink* )<strong>


	4. Chapter 4 - A Stab in the Dark

**My dear Inception Readers,**

** I realize that there is no adequate apology I could make for the length of time that I have left this story without an update, and it is with the deepest embarrassment that I beg your forgiveness. **

**I confess to have been lured away by the siren-song of Joss Whedon and his enchanting Avengers. I actually had this chapter nearly finished quite a long time ago, but when I lost the original draft, which was in long-hand, I told myself I would just work on my Avengers stories until I located it. I admit, I lost myself in that 'verse, consumed with the thought that there would soon be a time when new installments of Marvel canon would come out, and I needed to post all the stories dancing around in my head before new movies destroyed my claim to fit within the bounds of canon. **

**I finally did accept the fact that I might never find my original of this chapter and have been slowly reconstructing it, and my hope is that you will find comfort in the fact that the delay has and will result in a much better product since the forced rewrite has come after a couple of years of actually working in law enforcement, leading to some minor but important changes.**

**I will, of course, promise to do a **_**much**_** better job updating in the future, and I do hope you can still find it in your heart to review.**

**With constant devotion,**

** Ballerina Terminator**

Chapter 4

"So, how should I behave while we're in this dream?" Ariadne asked as they stood in the hallway outside the Renard apartment just behind her projections of Geoff and Marie.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Well, do I summarize my statements, or do you want to hear my part of the script verbatim?"

"I'd like to hear it as close to word-for-word as possible," he told her. "Until I get an idea of what's important and what isn't, I need as much detail as possible."

"Lovely," she said with a complete lack of enthusiasm. "That won't make me feel foolish at all."

He couldn't help smiling. "It won't be so bad once you get used to it. It should start to feel like Deja vu."

She gave him a doubtful look, but she squared her shoulders, and, when the door opened, she stepped inside to greet her host and hostess.

Once the pleasantries had been observed, the party - and Arthur- moved into the apartment to mingle with the other guests.

"You don't mind if I speak to you between my responses, do you?" she asked as M. Renard poured a glass of wine for Marie-Claude. "There are a few lulls in the conversation over the course of the evening."

"No, that's fine, he assured her. "Just as long as we keep our eyes open."

When Marie-Claude had been given her glass of wine, Ariadne beckoned as Geoffrey led the girls to the next introduction.

Upon approaching two near-by women, the younger one, a tall woman with long straight dark hair, excused herself from the short, copper-haired woman and gave Geoffrey a polite nod as she walked away.

Now, the red-head's face took on an impish smile as Geoffrey greeted her and introduced his guests, indicating that they red-head, now known as Charlotte, was the honoree of the celebration.

Arthur noted the conversation at this point was friendly but necessarily brief, any potential depth the discussion had lost to the demands of other guests with their own offers of congratulations. Soon, their small party moved on, making their way to the dining room.

When Ariadne made her way over to collect a plate, Arthur said, "You don't need to get food if you don't want to bother."

"But I'll be able to taste it, right?

"Depending on how good your memory is."

"Then I want it. It was quite good, and I should get to enjoy the bright points if I have to do this," she said primly, selecting another pasty.

Once plates were filled, they returned to the living room and took up seats among the other guests. Ariadne took a seat in a soft arm chair and the projections of Marie-Claude and Geoff took the two remaining open seats near her on one of the two couches. She looked up at Arthur questioningly.

"You aren't going to just hover, are you? We'll be here a while, and you're going to make me nervous."

With a sly grin he sat down in the chair with her and pulled her into his lap when she threatened to be completely unseated.

"Maybe it's a good thing you weren't actually here if this is how you'd behave in civilized society," she teased.

"I don't have to have good manners in a dream," he retorted, still looking like the cat who got the cream.

After they had both cleaned their plates, Geoffrey, pointing out a chess board set on a small table next to the wall opposite the library, asked Marie-Claude if she would be interested in playing a game.

Ariadne, indicating her lack of interested in watching the chess game to Arthur, led him to the library for a glass of wine she would not get. It was from there that Ariadne turned to point out the latest guest with a sigh of resignation, and Arthur got his first look at Durant Tessier. At first glance, he appeared unprepossessing, but seeing Ariadne's deep discomfort at the sight of him, Arthur was still able to dislike him instantly. He did not get a chance to study the man as Ariadne almost immediately grabbed his hand and began to pull him toward the kitchen door. He pulled up short when she knocked into someone just on the other side of the door. He recognized the man when she did although he wouldn't have been able to come up with his name and was grateful when she identified him. She glanced at Arthur as he stood at her shoulder with a look of indecision before she addressed Etienne with a hopeful,"Hey, do me a favor, and I'll put in a really good word for you with Robert.

"What can I do for you?" he asked obviously amused.

"Well, there's this man that I'm trying to avoid," she said.

"Ah, say no more, _cheri_," he said. "You need someone to run interference."

"If it becomes necessary.

"Your gentleman caller isn't here to fend off advances?"

"I'm afraid Arthur's not in a position to help me with this one. He's been in Kyoto for a few days visiting a business associate."

"That is a bit out of the way," Etienne agreed. "Well, can I ask who it is that we are avoiding?"

"Durant Tessier," she admitted. "We dated for a few months a few years back."

Arthur caught the look of distaste Etienne responded with. "Oh, well, I see why we are hiding. What a shame you don't have your new paramour with you. What better hindrance is there to an old beau than a new one?"

Arthur saw her eyes flick over at him before she answered. "Especially when the new one is so much... better."

When she blushed, Arthur couldn't help thinking that the hesitation was the result of an abridged statement.

When Etienne responded with, "Worth showing off, yes?" Ariadne's face turned an even deeper shade of red. Arthur realized the original statement was probably highly complimentary to himself, and he couldn't suppress a self-satisfied smile.

Ariadne did not meet his eyes.

"So, I guess it is safe to assume that it did not end well?" Etienne asked.

Ariadne turned and pushed the door out ever-so slightly and peered out into the library. "Unless he has changed greatly since I went out with him, I imagine that relationships never do end well with him. Oh, Lord, who is that poor girl he has with him? His latest victim?"

"What does she look like?" he asked, trying to get a look through the crack.

"Caramel-colored hair, not much taller than me… I can't see her face, no wait, now I can see."

"Big, sad eyes and a pointy nose?" he asked.

Arthur looked over her head to see the girl indicated. When M. Renard helped her off with her cashmere cardigan he could see she wore a long-sleeved and high-necked violet dress, and when she turned he saw those big, sad eyes had been made even bigger, if not sadder, by the dramatic make-up she wore.

"Heavens, yes."

"That 'poor girl' would be the current girlfriend. I believe her name is Astrid. I think they've been together for nearly a year now, but I'm not sure. I only joined the company last February, and he's technically part of the accounting department, so I haven't worked with him personally all that often, but I get the impression that he has a very sensitive ego."

"Very perceptive of you," Ariadne said, letting the door swing shut, and turning back to Etienne. "What is he doing here anyway? I thought this was a party for someone in the legal department."

"He's been working with legal for a while now, an internal thing. I'm not surprised he's here."

"I may never speak to Geoffrey again after this."

Etienne gave a sympathetic smile and gestured for her to join him in taking a seat.

"This is a good place to hide," he assured her. "People don't come into the kitchen very often."

Arthur examined the kitchen for the first time, and, bisected diagonally the high bar, Arthur could see how anything on the floor on the far side of the kitchen could easily be blocked from view by the counter and the island.

As Etienne procured Ariadne the drink she had been in search of before forced into hiding, the kitchen door opened again, and he turned to see the newcomer.

"Vivian!" Etienne cried jovially. "Won't you join us for a glass of wine?"

She agreed and returned a moment later with three wine glasses for the purpose.

"So, what are we doing tucked away in here?" she asked conspiratorially.

"Hiding from Durant Tessier. Mlle. Gray and he have some unfortunate history together, and she would prefer to avoid him," he said gesturing toward Ariadne before identifying the new woman as Vivian da Silva, M. Renard's personal assistant.

Vivian turned to Ariadne with a surprised look.

"Oh! That would mean that you were…" Vivian cut off with a flush of embarrassment.

"I was what?" Ariadne intoned, already knowing the answer.

As Vivian enlightened Ariadne on the details of the affair that would ultimately end her relationship with the man involved, Arthur watched Ariadne's face as she listened with real thoughtfulness, and it occurred to him that this revelation alone, without the later events of the night, would have been dramatic enough to warrant further contemplation. This was, he realized, the first time Ariadne had spent trying to process this information. He needed to make sure that she had the chance to deal with whatever emotional fallout this information might cause as it might easily be pushed aside and ignored in the light of the more immediate problems.

"I'm really beginning to feel sorry for Mlle. Astrid," Etienne said.

Vivian started to say something, but she stopped at the sound of shouts coming from the living room. They all exchanged quick glances before jumping up from their seats and heading over to the door. Etienne pushed it open just enough to see through into the living room where the shouts had already begun to die down. Ariadne crouched down to peer through the door without obstructing the view for Etienne and Vivian.

It was hard for Arthur to get a clear view, despite being the tallest in the room, but Ariadne shifted to give him a view of the disturbance going on in the main party.

"- not fair, and it is not true!" a middle-aged man was insisting to M. Renard.

"What's this?" Arthur asked Ariadne.

"Some kind of work issue. I'd nearly forgotten about it to tell you the truth. Just wait. We'll go into it."

Etienne let the door fall shut again and Arthur tried to help Ariadne back up from her kneeling position just as the shade of Etienne assisted her from the other side.

"I hope that was water in the glass that Jean-Louis was giving him," Etienne said. "I think the poor man has already imbibed enough this evening."

"What on earth was that all about?" Ariadne asked.

"That was Henri Noel, and I believe that he was suspended yesterday under suspicion of embezzlement," Etienne said.

"You aren't supposed to know that," Vivian said reproachfully. "It was supposed to be kept private."

Etienne shrugged and moved to the door that led into the dining room, and Arthur quickly realized he was trying to hear more of the conversation.

"-something wrong with the findings," one voice, the Henri Noel, was saying.

"If there was a mistake, then we will find the error," M. Renard insisted. "Until then, you are suspended, but if you have done nothing wrong, then you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not sure that it was just a mistake!" Henri said adamantly. "I think that-"

"Do not worry, we will go over all of Tessier's findings again." Arthur was sure this was Jean-Louis who had interrupted. "I am sure that we will be able to find if there has been some kind of oversight!" Arthur's eyebrows rose at the mention of the very person they had been discussing, and he could see that Ariadne was seeing the conversation with a new perspective, knowing now that the man would be dead within the next hour.

"I want to be allowed to see them!" Henri Noel insisted.

"Of course you will be allowed to go over the audit yourself," M. Renard reassured him. "You don't have to worry about that! Come, M. Noel, why don't you relax, and enjoy the party. I can assure that no final decision will be made without-"

Etienne let the door fall closed.

"I don't like eavesdropping in on other people's conversations," Vivian snapped. "I certainly hope you don't do that kind of thing at the office!"

"It's difficult not to hear when people insist on having their conversations while speaking as loud as possible," Etienne said innocently. "I'm not putting a glass up to walls and placing my ear on it, if that's what you're asking."

Arthur hoped he actually had been. He was determined to get as much dirt on anyone remotely acquainted with Tessier as he could, and he thought Etienne would help.

"What does Durant have to do with this?" Ariadne asked dutifully with a glance at Arthur.

"You remember when I said he was working with the legal department on an internal matter?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Well, apparently, someone has been dipping into company funds, and he and Jean-Louis Morel have been working on finding out who is responsible."

"And they think that M. Noel was involved?" Ariadne asked.

"I suppose so," Etienne said.

The conference ended then as Vivian was called away for the host's speech, but she didn't leave without a final admonishment. "Please, don't tell anyone else about it. You're not supposed to know about it, and I really don't want it to get out.

"Don't worry," Etienne assured. "None of this leaves the kitchen."

Until now, Arthur thought wryly.

"Good."

"I suppose as this is Charlotte's party, good manners would dictate that we listen to the speech being made in her honor," Etienne said when Vivian left.

"Yes, it does," Ariadne said. "In fact, I believe it will probably start soon, as things have suddenly gotten very quiet out there."

Etienne and Ariadne stepped out into the crowded library, made warm by the press of bodies. Arthur could see into the next room where M. Renard began speaking.

Ariadne pointed out Marie-Claude and Geoffrey, still sitting at the chess table, pausing in their game to watch the speaker.

Then, Etienne hooked her arm around his and leaned in to whisper to her.

"Don't look now, but you've been spotted."

"Yes?"

"It looks like he's trying to stare you down. In fact, he looks a bit silly."

Ariadne's head never turned and was, therefore, unable to recreate the memory of something she had not seen for herself, so Arthur didn't get to see Tessier looking silly, much to his disappointment. "Well, he can keep on staring, and I shall continue to pretend that he isn't there."

After the speech, Etienne looked around.

"I've lost sight of him," he said. "It has gotten awfully crowded in here." Etienne looked down at his watch.

"What's up?" Ariadne asked.

"It's getting a bit late for me," he admitted...

"Nine-thirty is late for you?"

"Well, not usually, but Robert asked me if I wanted to go for a run with him tomorrow morning," he explained.

"Oh, second date?" she teased.

"Sort of," he said with a grin. "Normally, I don't care for early morning runs, but we're going to get breakfast after the run."

"And you were going to get to bed early tonight," she finished for him.

"It's fine. I can stick around if you'd like," he insisted. "I can make sure Tessier doesn't bother you.

In Ariadne's next statement, her voice was hard and filled with regret. "That is very chivalrous of you, but it will be all right. He may not find me again, and I can deal with him if I need to. It will be good for me to not be such a coward."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she said with resignation, obviously hating the words as she said them. "It is kind of you to worry, but I want you to have a good time tomorrow. Give Robert my love when you see him."

"If you're sure," he said. "We must hang out again soon."

Etienne left, and Ariadne was left alone with Arthur.

Arthur followed Ariadne as she wandered apparently aimlessly through the party, clearly not in the mood to talk. He watched her become more and more anxious as the expected confrontation drew nigh. He could tell she was expecting humiliation, and he didn't like the thought that his presence was the source of the embarrassment. He could only stand by and watch with as much objectivism as he could muster when it came to her and wait.

Arthur stood at Ariadne's side as her gaze fell on Marie-Claude and Geoffrey playing chess while not really seeing the moves, and then he became aware of someone approaching from behind. He got a scent of cologne before seeing Ariadne tense.

"_Bonsoir_, Ariadne. You are looking very lovely as always."

"Go away," she muttered darkly.

"And how have you been?" Tessier responded, his tone all too familiar for Arthur.

"Obviously better that you as you seem to have lost the ability to understand simple statements such as 'I never want to speak to you again!' or even 'Go away!' Did someone finally hit you over the head with a tire iron?"

"Surely you don't really expect me to believe that you don't miss me even just a little bit?" Arthur thought about shooting the shade, but refrained. He knew that it would have been a useless act of machismo, and Ariadne would hardly appreciate him trying to fight her personal battles for her or having to go through this charade again because he interrupted the first run-through.

"_Monsieur_, I couldn't care less about what you would like to believe, but what I expect for you to do is leave me alone." Ariadne tried to move away, but he moved to block her exit, forcing the confrontation.

"Still as uptight as always," he insulted her.

Ariadne rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, for the love of all that is holy, why couldn't you have just left me alone? Did you really have to have the last word? Even now?" she demanded of the shade of Tessier, and Arthur could tell she had gone completely off script.

"Not so loud," he hissed. "You're making a scene."

"Oh, a '_scene._' God forbid! Well, we can't have that, so you just go your way, and I really must be on mine."

Once again, Ariadne made to move away, but Durant grabbed her wrist and gripped hard, keeping her at that spot.

"I don't think you understand what a mistake you've made," he growled. "Do you really think you could do better-" The way he said it, the way he had emphasized the words made it sound as Ariadne couldn't possibly be worth anyone's time, that by noticing her in the first place, he had been doing her the greatest of favors.

Had he continued, Arthur knew he would have laid Tessier out right there even if it was just a projection, but fortunately, Ariadne interrupted, putting an end to that nonsense herself.

"You are the one here who has failed to understand the situation," Ariadne said in a quiet, controlled voice, as she started to pry his fingers from her arm. "I already have found someone else, someone _so_ much better than you... But, of course, finding someone worse than you would have been a real trick. However, even if I had not found someone else, being alone would still have been better than you, so let go of me, and _get lost_."

She punctuated the end of her statement by giving his fingers a final twist in a very unnatural direction, and Arthur was pleased to hear his grunt of pain. When she kicked Tessier in the shin with her heel and Tessier did not react, Arthur suspected that had been added as a vent to her frustration. While Tessier was still caught off guard by the movement, she ducked away and into the dining room, Arthur close on her heels.

The dining room was empty, and instead of going into the kitchen, she went through the pair of French doors that led to the balcony. She held the door open behind her just long enough for Arthur to follow through before she pulled the curtain back in front of the door, and closed it behind them.

He saw her step into the shadows and watch through the gap in the curtain as Tessier entered the dining room and headed through the door to the kitchen. She continued to stare into the apartment as though she expected Tessier to come bursting through the door any minute.

He started to say something, but she cut him off. "Please, don't comment on what a jerk he was. Believe me, I know, better than you can imagine, and it only makes the relationship more embarrassing to recall. I feel foolish enough about it as it is."

Arthur thought about trying words of comfort or reassurance, thought about insisting that she was not to blame, but it all seemed so trite he couldn't bring himself to say any of it. Instead, he just shrugged and said casually, "I just wondered, since we are alone now, if you wanted to make out or something."

This statement startled a laugh out of her that gave way to giggles, and she met his eyes for the first time since they had first entered the living room, her expression a blend of disbelief and amusement. He grinned back at her, relieved that humor had worked sympathy had been unwelcome. She leaned into him still chuckling, and he wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on the top of her head

"Hell of a view you got, but, damn, it's cold out here," he said looking around. "Was it this cold when you were out here last night?"

"It was worse. I didn't have anyone to huddle up next to."

They sat down with their backs to the wall, and he pulled her closer as much for his warmth as for hers.

"You want to warm it up a bit for the sake of convenience?"

"What happened to the 'as accurate as possible' rule?"

"Did I say that?"

"When you were setting up the machine."

"I may have made a slight error in judgment."

He was momentarily distracted when he felt the phone in her pocket vibrate. Shifting, she pulled it from her pocket, and he saw his own picture and number lighting up the screen.

"Good evening," she said as she answered the phone, with a coy smile at him.

"You can ignore that guy and talk to me instead," Arthur told her taking the phone from her. "I think we were talking about the weather."

"Oh, if I could handle it, so can you," she told him, but he could soon tell the wind had stopped and the temperature began to creep up slowly. They sat there huddled together and, when it started, watched the Eiffel Tower light show in silence, pretending for a few moments that this was just a planned romantic interlude instead of the calm before the storm.

When the light show was over, Ariadne sighed sadly, and looked up at him. "It's time."

He helped her up, and after straightening her dress and taking a few calming breaths, she headed determinedly to the door to the kitchen.

As soon as she touched the door handle, Ariadne looked sick, but she still pulled the door open and stepped inside. Even paying close attention, Arthur nearly missed what happened next. Ariadne was obviously trying to tread carefully, but the moment she stepped around the door it was as though her feet had been forcibly yanked out from under her. By the time he had moved around the door, he saw Ariadne desperately trying to push herself away from the corpse of Tessier and covered in blood, not just dampened but drenched in it. The warm metallic smell of it almost made him choke.

Even before the room began to shake, Arthur knew she had lost control of the dream. As the room around him dissolved into darkness, her panicked screams sounded like a distant echo.

He awoke just before she did, in time to see her eyes slam open as she took a hard, gasping breath. The short physical jolt that had accompanied her return to consciousness didn't even faze the sleeping toddler in her arms, but Ariadne was clearly rattled. Truth be told, he was rattled, too. It was no small thing to personally experience someone else's trauma, and that had been...

"Wow," he breathed. For a while, that was all he could think to say.

"Yep," she replied, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

"I think we've had enough of your personal point of view for the moment."

Her eyes slid over to meet his. "It must be our deep emotional connection because I was just thinking the same thing," she said. Her voice shook, and her tone was sarcastic; but she was smiling, and there was humor in her eyes. He was relieved to see the humor. As necessary as it had been for him to get her view of the crime scene, he still felt like asking her for it had been a bad idea in retrospect. Even so, the process had given him a few insights, and there was one point that had occurred to him during the dream that he wanted to ask her about before the thought slipped away.

"Ariadne, when you went back inside, you went through the kitchen. Why that door and not the one you went out?"

"I tried it first, but it was locked."

"It was _locked_?" he demanded.

She nodded.

"Do you know who locked it?"

She shook her head slowly, clearly giving the matter some consideration for the first time.

"And that was why you had to go back in through the room with a dead body," he said flatly. "Ariadne, you didn't just fall over that body. You were practically pushed."


End file.
